ITALIAN    GARDENS    OF   THE 
RENAISSANCE 


rontlspiece 


Photo:  Anderson,  Rome 

A  CARDINAL'S   PLEASURE-HOUSE 
(Villa  d'Este,  Tivoli) 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF 
THE  RENAISSANCE 

AND   OTHER   STUDIES 


BY 


JULIA   CARTWRIGHT    A- 

AUTHOR  OF 

MADAME,   ISABELLA  D'ESTE,"   "THE  PERFECT  COURTIER 
"THE  PAINTERS  OF  FLORENCE,"   ETC. 


WITH  SIXTEEN  ILLUSTRATIONS 


"  What  of  the  way  of  the  world  gone  Maying, 
What  of  the  work  of  the  buds  in  the  bowers, 
What  of  the  will  of  the  wind  on  the  wall, 
Thinking  of  hours  when  the  flowers  have  to  fall  ?  " 

—SWINBURNE. 


LONDON 

SMITH,  ELDER  ts*  CO.,  15  WATERLOO  PLACE 
1914 

[All  rights  reserved] 


o 


Printed  by  BALLANTYNE,  HAXSOX  6*  Co, 
at  the  Ballantyne  Press,  Edinburgh 


IN  MEMORY  OF 

ENID,  LADY  LAYARD 

AND    OF   HAPPY   DAYS    AT 
CA'    CAPELLO,   VENICE 


321823 


PREFACE 

THESE  sketches  on  Renaissance  Gardens  and  their 
makers  were  first  written  at  the  suggestion  of  a 
lamented  friend,  whose  memory  is  honoured  and 
cherished  by  men  and  women  of  all  classes  and  nation- 
alities throughout  Italy,  Enid,  Lady  Layard.  Every- 
thing connected  with  Venice,  where  she  made  her  home 
for  the  last  thirty-five  years  of  her  life,  was  dear  to  her, 
more  especially  the  traditions  which  linger  about  the 
palazzi  and  piazze,  the  narrow  canals  and  calli  with 
which  she  had  so  close  and  intimate  an  aquaintance. 
And  she  loved  the  villas  and  gardens  of  the  mainland, 
the  district  of  Asolo  and  the  Trevigiana,  the  shores  of 
the  Brenta  and  the  Lago  di  Garda,  the  green  slopes 
of  the  Berici  and  Euganean  hills.  Nor  was  her  love 
of  Italy  confined  to  any  one  province.  Umbria  and 
Tuscany,  Fiesole  and  Settignano,  the  stately  fragments 
of  Roman  gardens,  the  villas  of  Tivoli  and  the 
Campagna,  were  alike  dear  to  Lady  Layard,  and  her 
memory  still  haunts  these  enchanted  regions. 

To-day  most  of  the  gardens  described  in  these  pages 
have    unfortunately    perished,  and    only    live    in    the 

writings  of  Renaissance  humanists,    in   the    prose    of 

vii 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Boccaccio  and  Bembo,  in  the  verse  of  Poliziano  and 
Ariosto.  But  the  enthusiasm  for  beauty  and  the 
ardent  love  of  Nature  which  inspired  their  creators  are 
themes  of  which  the  scholar  and  the  poet  will  never 
tire. 

Four  of  these  studies  appeared  in  the  Nineteenth 
Century  and  After,  and  are  reprinted  by  the  kind 
permission  of  the  editor,  Mr.  Wray  Skilbeck.  The 
paper  on  "  Cardinal  Bembo  and  his  Villa  "  first  saw  the 
light  in  the  Cornhill,  that  on  "The  Certosa  of  Val 
d'  Ema  "  was  published  many  years  ago  in  the  Portfolio, 
then  edited  by  Mr.  Philip>  Hamerton,  and  is  now 
reprinted  by  Messrs.  Seeley's  permission,  while  I  have  to 
thank  Mr.  John  Murray  for  leave  to  include  in  this 
volume  the  account  of  the  warrior  Guidarelli's  "  Tomb 
at  Ravenna,'*  which  originally  appeared  in  the  Monthly 
Review.  The  article  on  Giovanni  Costa,  the  Roman 
painter  and  patriot,  was  first  published  in  the  National 
Review,  and  is  reprinted  by  the  courtesy  of  Mr.  Leo 
Maxse ;  that  on  "  Bianca  Sforza,"  the  short-lived 
daughter  of  Lodovico  Sforza,  whose  portrait  in  the 
Ambrosian  Library  we  all  know,  is  entirely  new. 

JULIA  CARTWRIGHT. 
OCKHAM,  October  i,  1914. 


Vin 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 


THE  GARDENS  OF  FLORENTINE  HUMANISTS  i 

THE  GARDENS  OF  ESTE  AND  GONZAGA  PRINCES    .        .31 

THE  GARDENS  OF  PAPAL  ROME 65 

THE  GARDENS  OF  VENICE 102 

CARDINAL  BEMBO  AND  His  VILLA 135 

BIANCA  SFORZA — THE  LADY  OF  THE  AMBROSIANA  .        .     165 
THE  CERTOSA  OF  VAL  D'EMA,  FLORENCE       .        .        .200 

A  TOMB  AT  RAVENNA 235 

A  VISIT  TO  LA  VERNIA  :  1884 253 

GIOVANNI  COSTA — His  LIFE  AND  ART:   1904         ,        .     273 

INDEX 293 


LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


A  CARDINAL'S  PLEASURE-HOUSE  (Villa  d'Este,  Tivoli) 

From  a  photograph  by  Anderson,  Rome  frontispiece 

THE  VILLA  URBANA  ( Villa  Palmieri)       .         .      Facing  p.       6 

From  a  photograph  by  Alinari,  Florence 

THE  VILLA  RUSTICA  ( Villa  Salviati)        .  „  10 

From  a  photograph  by  Alinari,  Florence 

A  PALACE-GARDEN  (Palazzo  Pitti)     ...  „  32 

From  a  photograph  by  Alinari,  Florence 

A  CONVENT-GARDEN  (S.  Bernardino^  Verona}    .  „  49 

THE  VATICAN  GARDENS  ....  ,,  68 

From  a  photograph  by  Anderson,  Rome 

CARDINAL  DE'  MEDICI'S  VILLA,  ROME     .         .  „  99 

From  a  photograph  by  Brogi,  Florence 

A   VENETIAN    PLEASURE-HOUSE   (Allegoria    del 

"  Ricco  Epulone"  Bonifazio)        .  .  ,,          no 

From  a  photograph  t>y  A  nderson ,  Rome 

CATERINA  CORNARO,  QUEEN  OF  CYPRUS  (after 

Titian)       .  .  ,,126 

From  a  photograph  by  Anderson,  Rome 

LUCREZIA  BORGIA,  DUCHESS  OF  FERRARA  (Pin- 

turicchio)     .  ,,          *36 

From  a  photograph  by  Anderson,  Rome 
XT 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

BIANCA  SFORZA  (Ambrogio  de  Predis)        .         .      Facing  p.  165 

From  a  photograph  by  Anderson,  Rome 

LE  Mois  DE  MAI  (Pol  de  Limburg) .         .         .  „          182 

TOMB  OF  LORENZO  ACCIAIUOLI  (Certosa  di  Val 

d'Ema) „          214 

From  a  photograph  by  Alinari,  Florence 

TOMB  OF  GUIDARELLO  GUIDARELLI  (Ravenna]  „          248 

From  a  photograph  by  Alinari,  Florence 

HEAD  OF  WARRIOR  (Ravenna)         .         .         .  ,,          250 

From  a  photograph  by  Alinari,  Florence 

THE  CONVENT  OF  LA  VERNIA  .         .  „          264 


XII 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF 
THE  RENAISSANCE 

THE  GARDENS   OF   FLORENTINE 
HUMANISTS 

"  P  mi  trovai,  fanciulle,  un  bel  mattino 
Di  mezzo  Maggio,  in  un  verde  giardino." 

ANGELO  POLIZIANO. 

THE  Italian  humanists  of  the  Renaissance,  like  the 
citizens  of  Utopia,  set  great  store  by  their  gardens. 
The  newly  awakened  delight  in  the  beauty  of  nature 
and  the  passionate  interest  in  classical  antiquity  which 
marked  the  age,  early  led  scholars  to  follow  the 
example  of  the  ancient  Romans  in  this  respect.  They 
read  Quintilian  and  Varro,  pondered  over  the  pages 
of  Pliny  and  Columella,  and  turned  their  thoughts 
once  more  to  the  long-lost  art  of  gardening.  In 
Bacon's  famous  phrase,  "they  began  first  to  build" 
stately,  then  to  garden  finely." 

The  love  of  fresh  air  and  sunshine,  the  spirit  of 
independence,  and  taste  for  roving  soon  caused  men 
and  women  to  seek  the  countryside.  Tuscan  poets 
took  up  the  strain  and  sang  the  joys  of  the  open  road 


ITALIAN  GARDEN'S  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

and  the  pleasant  May-time.  Folgore,  the  chivalrous 
poet  of  San  Gimignano — "  San  Fina's  town  of  the 
beautiful  towers" — bade  youths  and  maidens  leave  the 
city  for  the  villa  with  the  first  breath  of  June,  and 
whisper  their  secrets  in  the  shady  groves  where  roses 
bloom  and  fountains  keep  the  grass  green  through  the 
parching  summer  days.  Lapo  Gianni  prayed  that  he 
might  spend  his  life  with  fair  women  in  bowers  where 
the  leaves  are  always  green  and  the  birds  never  cease 
their  songs.  And  Franco  Sacchetti,  the  gayest  singer 
of  them  all,  called  on  his  company  of  pleasure-seekers 
to  fling  care  to  the  winds,  and,  leaving  grave  thoughts 
within  the  city  walls,  escape  to  the  olive-woods  and  the 
hills,  the  villa  and  the  gardens  where  the  blessed  Spring 
awaited  them. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  thirteenth  century,  Piero 
Crescenzi,  a  jurist  of  Bologna,  wrote  a  Latin  treatise  on 
Agriculture,  which  he  dedicated  to  Charles  II,  King  of 
Naples,  the  son  and  successor  of  Charles  of  Anjou. 
The  eighth  book  of  this  work  is  devoted  to  pleasure- 
gardens,  which  the  author  divides  into  three  classes, 
those  of  poor  men,  those  of  persons  of  moderate  for- 
tunes, and  those  of  wealthy  nobles  and  kings.  "  Each 
of  these,"  Piero  writes,  "  should  be  adorned  with  sweet- 
scented  flowers,  arbours  of  clipped  trees,  grassy  lawns, 
and,  if  possible,  a  sparkling  fountain  to  lend  joy  and 
brightness  to  the  scene.  A  pergola  of  vines  will  afford 


GARDENS  OF  FLORENTINE  HUMANISTS 

shade  in  the  noonday  heats,  but  in  small  gardens  it  is 
well  to  plant  no  trees  on  the  lawn,  and  to  leave  the 
grass  exposed  to  the  pure  airs  and  sunshine."  For  the 
ordinary  person,  two  to  four  acres  of  ground  should  be 
sufficient,  but  twenty  acres  would  be  more  fitting  for 
kings  and  nobles.  But  since  those  personages  who  have 
the  means  to  satisfy  their  fancies  are  generally  too  igno- 
rant or  indolent  to  lay  out  their  own  gardens,  the 
writer  proceeds  to  lay  down  rules  for  their  guidance. 
"  A  royal  garden,"  he  says,  "  should  be  girt  about  with 
walls ;  a  fine  palace  should  stand  on  the  south  side, 
with  flower-beds,  orchards,  and  fishponds,  and  on  the 
north  side,  a  thick  wood  should  be  planted  to  afford 
shade  and  protect  the  garden  from  cruel  winds."  A 
pavilion  or  casino,  to  serve  as  a  dwelling-place  in  the 
summer,  should  be  placed  in  some  part  of  the  grounds, 
surrounded  with  green  palisades,  while  evergreen  trees, 
such  as  the  pine,  the  cypress  and  ilex,  which  are  never 
bare  of  leaves,  should  be  planted  for  ornament  during 
the  winter  months.  Nor  should  a  menagerie  of  wild 
animals  be  wanting,  or  an  aviary  of  singing  birds,  who 
should  be  allowed  to  fly  at  will  among  the  trees. 

Messer  Piero's  maxims  seem  to  have  met  with 
general  approval  from  his  fellow-countrymen,  and  in- 
dicate the  lines  on  which  most  Renaissance  gardens  were 
laid  out.  As  the  sense  of  security  increased,  as  men 
became|rich  and  prosperous,  country-houses  and  gardens 

3 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

sprang  up  everywhere.  Petrarch  had  his  villetta  near 
the  fountain  of  Vaucluse,  and  two  gardens,  the  one 
sacred  to  Apollo,  the  other  to  Bacchus,  where  he  was 
never  tired  of  contemplating  the  sky,  the  mountains, 
and  the  waters,  and  where  he  would  gladly  have  spent 
the  rest  of  his  life,  "were  Avignon  not  so  near,  and 
Italy  not  so  far." 

"  If  love  of  my  own  things  and  the  force  of  ancient 
habit  do  not  deceive  me,  there  is  no  place  in  the  world 
better  fitted  to  inspire  noble  thoughts  and  lofty  dreams." 
So  the  poet  wrote  from  Lombardy  to  his  old  friend 
Guido  Settimo,  Archdeacon  of  Genoa,  who  was  staying 
at  the  villa  in  his  absence.  He  goes  on  to  speak  of 
the  ortlcella^  where  he  has  planted  fruit  trees  of  every 
kind  with  his  own  hand,  being  at  once  architect  and 
gardener,  and  begs  the  priest  to  go  on  with  the  work. 

"  I  have  been  told,"  he  writes,  "  by  the  oldest  inhabi- 
tants of  the  place,  more  especially  by  my  own  servant, 
who  is  most  experienced  in  agricultural  matters,  that  what- 
ever is  planted  on  the  6th  of  February  always  flourishes 
and  is  never  affected  by  any  evil  influences.  So,  when 
this  day  comes  round,  especially  if  it  falls  under  a  good 
moon,  be  sure  to  plant  some  new  tree  in  the  garden,  in 
order  that  if  we  are  allowed  to  spend  our  old  age  in 
this  spot,  your  tree  may  be  fairer  and  its  foliage  thicker 
than  that  of  any  other.  Meanwhile  enjoy  the  trees 
which  are  there,  both  the  oldest  that  were  planted  by 
Bacchus  and  Minerva,  and  the  youngest  that  were 
planted  by  my  own  hands,  and  which  have  grown 

4 


GARDENS  OF  FLORENTINE  HUMANISTS 

so  fast  that  they  promise  to  shelter  not  only  our 
descendants  but  ourselves.  .  .  .  But  why,  oh  why,  do 
I  recall  every  detail  of  my  villetta  ?  Never  can  I  gaze 
on  the  beauty  of  earth  and  sky  without  remembering 
my  villa  and  those  with  whom  I  long  to  spend  my 
few  remaining  days." 

In  his  old  age,  Petrarch  was  fortunate  enough  to 
find  another  home  on  Italian  soil,  at  Arqua,  in  the 
Euganean  hills,  where  he  built  himself  a  villa  " pi 'ceo la, 
ma  graziosa"  and  spent  the  last  years  of  his  life  in  the 
peaceful  enjoyment  of  the  beautiful  prospect  and  sweet, 
wholesome  air.  The  low  white-walled  house  is  still 
standing  in  the  olive-woods  on  the  heights  above 
Arqua,  and  the  garden,  with  its  medlars  and  pome- 
granates, its  vines  and  acacias,  is  little  altered  since  he 
lived  there.  During  centuries  it  has  been  the  goal  of 
pilgrims  from  all  lands,  who,  like  Bembo  and  Niccolo 
da  Correggio,  Byron  and  Shelley,  have  climbed  the 
hill  to  visit  the  poet's  tomb  near  the  church,  and  have 
looked  down  from  the  loggia  of  Petrarch's  home  on 
the  "  waveless  plain  of  Lombardy  "  stretching  far  away 
in  the  blue  distance. 

While  Petrarch  was  counting  his  fruit-trees  and 
defending  his  garden  from  the  Naiads  of  the  Sorgue, 
another  Florentine,  Boccaccio,  was  writing  those  in- 
imitable pages  in  which  he  describes  the  gardens  of 
1  Lettere  di  F.  Petrarca  (G.  Fracassetti),  iv.  41. 

5 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Poggio  Gherardo  and  Villa  Palmieri,  near  his  home  at 
Settignano.  In  the  introduction  to  the  Decamerone,  he 
tells  us  how  Pampinea  led  her  joyous  troop  up  the 
little  hill,  far  from  the  dusty  highway,  to  a  fair  palace 
surrounded  by  green  lawns  and  spacious  gardens,  all 
neatly  kept,  and  full  of  such  flowers  as  belonged  to 
the  season.  "  Here,"  she  said,  "  it  is  good  and 
pleasant  to  stay,"  and  Filomena  crowned  her  brow 
with  green  laurel  leaves,  while  a  table  decked  with  the 
whitest  of  linen  cloths,  with  boughs  of  yellow  broom 
and  silver  vessels,  was  set  out  in  the  court.  On  Sun- 
day mornings  the  fair  ladies  descended  from  the 
heights,  and  the  Queen  led  the  way  along  an  un- 
frequented lane,  where  some  twenty  nightingales  sang, 
and  herbs  and  flowers  were  just  opening  to  the  rising 
sun,  to  the  Villa  Schifanoia  (Sans-Souci),  afterwards 
known  as  Villa  Palmieri.  Here  they  wondered  at  the 
beauty  of  the  gardens,  at  the  broad  alleys  shaded  by 
pergolas,  laden  with  purple  grapes,  and  bordered  with 
red  and  white  roses  and  jessamine,  "  that  filled  the  air 
with  sweet  scents  and  shut  out  the  rays  of  the  sun,  not 
only  in  the  morning,  but  at  noonday,  so  that  one 
could  always  walk  there  without  fear."  More  delight- 
ful than  all  was  the  lawn  of  the  finest  and  greenest 
grass,  spangled  with  a  thousand  flowers  and  surrounded 
by  orange  and  citron  trees,  bearing  ripe  fruit  and 

blossoms  at   the   same  time.      In   the   centre  stood  a 

6 


GARDENS  OF  FLORENTINE  HUMANISTS 

white  marble  fountain,  marvellously  carved,  sending  up 
a  jet  of  water,  which,  falling  with  delicious  sound  into 
a  crystal  basin,  was  carried  through  little  channels  into 
all  parts  of  the  garden,  and  finally  poured  down  into 
the  valley  with  such  force  as  to  turn  the  wheels  of  two 
mills,  "  much,  as  you  may  suppose,  to  the  profit  of  the 
owner." 

The  mills  on  the  Mugnone  are  still  standing,  and 
the  gardens  where  Boccaccio's  ladies  danced  and  feasted 
and  told  their  witty  tales  have  been  described  by  many 
other  eloquent  pens. 

Both  Petrarch  and  Boccaccio  lived  when  the  dawn 
of  the  new  learning  was  breaking  in  the  sky,  and  in  Sir 
Philip  Sidney's  phrase,  "  the  morning  did  strew  roses 
and  violets  on  the  heavenly  floor,  against  the  coming 
of  the  sun."  But,  in  the  fifteenth  century,  when  men 
and  women  were  bent  on  enjoying  life  in  all  its  fulness 
— and  individual  expression  had  become  a  passionate 
necessity  —  there  was  a  great  outburst  of  garden- 
making.  The  newborn  love  of  nature  penetrated 
every  phase  of  society.  It  stirred  the  heart  of  ^Eneas 
Sylvius  Piccolomini  as  he  watched  the  changing  lights 
on  the  slopes  of  Monte  Amiata  and  the  gnarled  stems 
of  the  oaks  that  overshadow  the  ravines  in  the  Volscian 
country.  It  moved  Ser  Lapo  Mazzei,  that  very 
prosaic-minded  notary  of  Prato,  to  ride  out  to  his 
villa  at  Grignano,  in  the  cool  of  the  evening,  and  help 

7 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

his  labourers  tie  up  the  vines  and  dig  the  garden. 
And  it  impelled  Buonaccorso  Pitti,  the  father  of  the 
great  Messer  Luca,  to  buy  a  farm  at  Bogole,  which 
afterwards  became  famous  as  the  site  of  the  Boboli 
gardens.  This  honest  citizen  took  as  much  delight  in 
his  fruit-trees  as  Petrarch,  and  kept  a  daily  record  of 
their  growth  and  numbers.  "  On  this  day,  the  24th 
of  April  1419,"  he  writes  in  his  diary,  "I  counted  all 
the  trees  that  bear  fruit  in  our  gardens  and  vineyards, 
not  including  walnut-trees.  I  find  564  trees  in  all, 
60  olive,  164  fig,  1 06  peach,  58  cherry,  24  almond, 
5  pomegranate,  25  apple,  16  pear,  2  quince,  and  4 
filbert-trees."  l 

It  was  left  for  Leo  Battista  Alberti  to  paint  the  joys 
and  virtue  of  country-life  in  his  admirable  treatise, 
Del  Governo  della  Famiglia.  The  sentiments  which  he 
puts  into  the  lips  of  Agnolo  Pandolfini,  the  excellent 
wool-merchant,  who,  weary  of  trade  and  politics,  has 
retired  to  his  villa  at  Signa,  are  worthy  of  Ruskin 
himself.  In  his  eyes  the  villa — that  is  to  say,  the 
country  —  stands  for  truth  and  righteousness,  for 
all  that  is  highest  and  holiest  in  public  and  private 
life. 

"What  man  is  there  who  does  not  find  joy  and 
happiness  in  the  villa  ?  "  he  asks.  "  The  villa  is  always 
gracious  and  faithful  and  true.  If  you  govern  her 

1  Cronica  di  Buonaccorso  Pitti,  p.  112. 

8 


GARDENS  OF  FLORENTINE  HUMANISTS 

wisely  and  well  she  will  never  fail  to  satisfy  you  and 
will  always  add  gift  to  gift.  In  spring  the  villa  affords 
endless  delights — green  leaves,  flowers,  sweet  scents, 
songs  of  birds — and  does  her  utmost  to  make  you 
glad  and  joyous.  The  world  smiles  on  you ;  there  is 
good  promise  of  a  rich  harvest,  you  are  filled  with 
hope,  with  mirth  and  gaiety.  And  then  how  courteous 
the  villa  becomes,  sending  you  one  fruit  after  another, 
never  leaving  the  barn  empty.  In  autumn  her  rewards 
are  out  of  all  proportion  to  your  labours ;  she  gives 
you  back  twelve  for  one,  for  a  little  toil  many  barrels 
of  wine,  and  for  what  is  old,  things  new  and  good. 
She  fills  the  house  with  fresh  and  dried  grapes,  wal- 
nuts, figs,  pears,  almonds,  filberts,  pomegranates,  with 
sweet  and  luscious  apples,  and  other  wholesome  fruits. 
Nor  does  she  forget  to  be  liberal  in  winter,  supplying 
you  with  oil  and  wood,  with  vine-tendrils,  laurel  and 
juniper  boughs,  to  shelter  you  from  snow  and  wind, 
and  kindle  a  fragrant  and  cheerful  flame  on  the  hearth. 
And  if  you  please  to  stay  with  her,  the  villa  will  gladden 
you  with  splendid  sunshine  and  give  you  fine  sport  in 
chasing  the  hare,  the  stag,  and  the  wild  boar.  What 
need  I  say  more?  It  would  be  hard  to  tell  all  that 
the  villa  does  for  the  family's  health  and  comfort. 
And  the  wise  have  always  held  that  the  villa  is  the 
refuge  of  good,  just  and  temperate  men,  yielding  them 
gain  together  with  pleasant  amusement.  There  you 
may  enjoy  clear,  brilliant  days  and  beautiful  prospects 
over  wooded  hills  and  sunlit  plains,  and  listen  to  the 
murmuring  of  fountains  and  of  the  running  streams 
that  flow  through  the  tufted  grass.  What  is  still 
better,  there  you  can  escape  from  the  noise  and  tumult 
of  the  city,  the  turmoils  of  the  Piazza  and  the 

9 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Palace.     O  blessed  country  life,  how  untold  are  your 
joys ! " * 

So  Leo  Battista  Albert!,  the  greatest  prose  writer 
of  the  age,  sings  the  praises  of  the  simple  life.  His 
words  recall  many  a  plain  white-washed  villa  of  the 
fifteenth  century  which  is  still  to  be  found  hidden 
among  the  olive-woods  round  Florence,  with  a  clump 
of  cypresses  by  the  gateway  and  a  hedge  of  roses  and 
blue  iris  along  the  path  where  the  young  wheat  is 
sprouting  in  the  furrow. 

The  Italians,  like  the  old  Romans,  were  always 
careful  to  discriminate  between  the  Villa  Urbana  and 
Rustica^  the  one  a  palatial  building  in  the  city  or  its 
immediate  neighbourhood,  the  other  a  modest,  oblong 
.  house  with  broad  eaves  and  square  tower,  half  farm 
and  half  fortress — \hzpodere  or  mgna  of  the  landlord 
who  spends  six  months  of  the  year  on  his  estates.  On 
one  occasion,  indeed,  an  animated  debate  was  held  in 
the  Roman  Academy  as  to  the  different  meaning  of  the 
words  villa  and  vigtia,  and  the  philosophers  who 
discussed  the  question  finally  decided  that  their 
significance  was  precisely  the  same.  But  whether  the 
villa  stood  in  the  city  or  country,  the  garden  was 
always  treated  as  an  integral  part  of  the  house,  a  place 
to  be  lived  in,  which  must  be  adapted  to  the  architec- 
tural design  of  the  building  as  well  as  to  the  require- 

1  Del  Cover  no  della  Eamtglia,  p.  109. 
10 


GARDENS  OF  FLORENTINE  HUMANISTS 

ments  of  its  inhabitants.  It  was  in  the  age  of  the 
Medici,  when  Pandolfini  lived  and  Alberti  wrote,  that 
garden-design  became  a  fine  art  and  individual  culture 
and  character  found  expression  in  the  creation  of  the 
countless  pleasure-houses  that  are  scattered  over  the 
Tuscan  hills.  In  1417  Cosimo  de'  Medici  bought  the 
estate  of  Careggi,  two  miles  north-west  of  the  city,  and 
employed  Michelozzo  to  design  the  house  and  grounds 
— "  a  thing,"  says  Vasari,  "  truly  rich  and  magnificent," 
as  well  as  to  bring  water  for  the  fountain  that  may  still 
be  seen  in  the  garden.  This  villa,  with  the  covered 
galleries  under  the  roof  and  the  frescoed  loggia, 
looking  over  the  ilex-woods  towards  the  sunset,  re- 
mained the  favourite  home  of  the  Medici  during  three 
generations,  and  was  enlarged  and  beautified  by  each 
successive  owner.  Here  Cosimo  Pater  Patriae  dined 
on  the  memorable  day  when  he  returned  to  Florence 
in  triumph,  bringing  with  him  the  faithful  architect 
who  had  shared  his  exile.  In  this  villa,  which  he 
called  the  place  on  earth  nearest  to  heaven,  he  spent 
the  happiest  hours  of  his  life,  studying  Plato  and 
discussing  philosophy  with  Marsilio  Ficino,  for  whom 
he  built  the  villa  of  "  La  Fontanella,"  close  by. 

"  Yesterday  I  arrived  at  Careggi,"  he  wrote  to  Ficino, 
"  not  so  much  with  the  object  of  improving  my  gardens 
as  myself.  Let  me  see  you,  Marsilio,  as  soon  as 
possible,  and  do  not  forget  to  bring  with  you  the  book 

II 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

of  our  friend  Plato — De  summo  bono — which  I  hope 
you  have  by  this  time  translated  into  Latin,  for  there  is 
nothing  that  I  desire  so  ardently  as  to  find  out  the 
true  road  to  happiness.  Come  then  and  fail  not  to 
bring  with  you  the  lyre  of  Orpheus."  * 

Here  in  April  1459,  when  Cosimo  was  too  infirm  to 
leave  the  Via  Larga,  his  sons  entertained  young 
Galeazzo  Maria  Sforza,  who  was  sent  by  his  august 
father,  Francesco,  Duke  of  Milan,  to  meet  Pope 
Pius  II. 

"  Yesterday,"  the  boy  wrote  home  to  his  parents,  "  I 
went  to  Careggi,  a  most  beautiful  palace  belonging 
to  Cosimo,  and  was  shown  all  over  the  place,  and  was 
no  less  delighted  with  the  gardens,  which  are  altogether 
enchanting,  than  with  the  noble  building,  which  is 
certainly  one  of  the  finest  houses  in  this  city,  when  you 
consider  the  halls,  bedrooms,  kitchens,  and  furniture."  2 

Galeazzo  proceeds  to  describe  the  banquet  at  which 
he  was  entertained  by  Piero  de'  Medici  and  the  chief 
members  of  his  family,  all  saving  Cosimo's  handsome 
son  Giovanni,  who  refused  to  sit  down,  and  himself 
insisted  on  waiting  on  the  guests.  A  young  Tuscan 
poet,  Antonio  Cammelli  of  Pistoja,  chanted  a  poem  in 
praise  of  the  Sforza's  great  deeds  to  the  music  of  his 
lute,  after  which  the  Medici  ladies  and  Marietta  Strozzi, 
whose  bust  was  carved  by  Desiderio  da  Settignano,  and 

1  M.  Ficini,  Ep.  i.  I. 

2  Bibliotheque  Nationale,  Fonds  italien,  1588. 

12 


GARDENS  OF  FLORENTINE  HUMANISTS 

whom  Galeazzo  calls  the  loveliest  maiden  in  Florence, 
joined  in  country  dances  with  the  peasant  girls  of 
Careggi.  Altogether  it  was  a  memorable  afternoon, 
and  one  that  the  young  Sforza  prince  could  not  easily 
forget. 

Cafaggiuolo  was  another  villa  which  Michelozzo 
built  far  C*sim«  *n  a  spur  of  the  Apennines  in  Val 
Mugello,  eighteen  miles  from  the  town.  Vasari 
describes  this  as  a  castle  with  moat  and  drawbridge, 
built  for  defence,  but  surrounded  with  ilex-woods, 
gardens,  fountains,  aviaries,  and  all  that  makes  a  villa 
fair  and  pleasant.  To-day  Cafaggiuolo  still  retains  its 
massive  tower  and  machicolated  walls,  although  the 
moat  and  bridges  are  gone  and  the  grass  grows  up 
to  the  doors.  But  according  to  Messer  Giorgio, 
Michelozzo's  masterpiece  was  the  villa  which  he  built 
for  Cosimo's  younger  son,  Giovanni,  on  the  steep  hill 
of  Fiesole.  Here  he  had  to  contend  with  the  natural 
difficulties  of  the  site,  but  even  these  the  great  architect 
turned  to  advantage,  raising  huge  buttresses  against  the 
hillside,  and  having  stables,  cellars,  and  storehouses  cut 
out  of  the  rock,  on  which  he  erected  "  fair  halls  and 
saloons  for  music  and  books."  "  And  so  great  was 
his  skill,"  adds  Vasari,  "  that  in  spite  of  the  exposed 
situation  of  the  house  no  crack  has  ever  been  seen  in 
the  walls." 

Cosimo's  grandsons,  Lorenzo  and  Giuliano,  spent 

13 


- 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

much  of  their  boyhood  in  Cafaggiuolo.  Here  they 
were  sent  when  the  plague  was  raging  in  Florence 
and  their  grandfather  was  dying  at  Careggi,  and  here 
after  his  death  they  often  spent  the  summer  with  the 
widowed  Monna  Contessina.  The  boys,  as  the  fattore 
told  their  father,  had  a  happy  time,  riding,  fishing, 
shooting,  and  visiting  different  parts  of  the  estate. 
Lorenzo,  it  appears,  already  showed  a  taste  for  garden- 
-,  ing,  and  asked  Piero's  leave  to  lay  out  the  rough 
ground  in  front  of  the  villa.  And  it  was  at  a  village 
fair  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Cafaggiuolo  that  he  met 
the  peasant  girl  who  became  the  heroine  of  his  rustic 
idyll,  Nencia  da  Barberino.  From  the  first  a  genuine 
love  of  nature  inspired  his  youthful  sonnets  and 
canzoni.  He  describes  the  ilex-woods  and  rippling 
streams,  the  song  of  the  nightingales  in  the  thicket, 
the  belky  fresche  e  purpuree  viole  in  the  grass  and  the 
red  and  white  rosebuds  of  the  gardens.  A  sunflower 
on  the  terraces  of  Careggi  filled  him  with  tender 
musings  on  the  death  of  the  fair  Simonetta,  and  his 
mistress  Lucrezia  first  appeared  to  him,  like  Botticelli's 
Venus,  in  a  shower  of  roses.  The  simple  joys  of  rural 
life,  the  calm  repose  of  the  villa,  and  the  beauty  of 
trees  and  flowers  are  themes  of  which  he  never  tires. 
Let  others  seek  the  stately  halls  and  busy  marts  of  the 
city,  the  games  and  pleasures  which  bring  with  them 
a  thousand  vexing  cares.  All  he  asks  for  is  a  little 

H 


GARDENS  OF  FLORENTINE  HUMANISTS 

green  meadow  full  of  flowers,  a  rivulet  murmuring  in 
the  grass,  and  a  single  bird  pouring  out  its  love-song 
in  the  hedge. 

Lorenzo's  friend,  Angelo  Poliziano,  weaves  the  same 
thoughts  into  still  sweeter  verse.  For  delicate  charm 
and  grace  no  poem  of  the  century  equals  his  Ballata 
"  F  mi  trovai,  fanciulle,  un  bel  mattino,"  1  in  which, 
forestalling  our  English  poet,  he  bids  fair  maidens 
"  gather  the  roses  while  they  may." 

"  Sicche,  fanciulle,  mentre  e  piii  fiorita, 
Cogliam  la  bella  rosa  del  giardino." 

Poliziano  was  the  most  distinguished  of  all  the 
brilliant  circle  which  flourished  "  in  the  balmy  airs  of 
Careggi  as  in  the  shade  of  the  Elysian  myrtles."  His 
fame  drew  visitors  from  all  parts  of  Italy,  and  his 
poetic  gifts  were  in  constant  requisition. 

"  Does  a  man  want  a  motto  for  a  sword-hilt,"  he  writes 
from  Fiesole  to  his  friend  Donato,  "  a  posy  for  a  ring, 
a  device  for  his  bed,  his  plate,  or  even  his  pots  and 
pans,  he  runs  like  all  the  world  to  Poliziano.  There  is 
hardly  a  wall  that  I  have  not  besmeared,  like  a  snail, 
with  the  effusions  of  my  brain.  One  man  teases  me 
for  a  glee  or  a  drinking  song,  another  asks  for  a  grave 
discourse,  a  third  begs  for  a  serenade,  a  fourth  for  a 
carnival  ballad." 

1  "  I  went  a  roaming,  maiden,  one  bright  day, 
In  a  green  garden,  in  mid  month  of  May." 

J.  A    SYMONDS. 

15 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Lorenzo  made  Poliziano  tutor  to  his  sons,  bidding 
him  not  only  teach  them  Greek  and  Latin,  but  infuse 
them  with  his  own  love  of  Nature.  Accordingly  he 
set  the  boys  themes  on  rural  subjects,  and  took  them 
to  visit  all  the  gardens  in  the  neighbourhood.  But 
the  poet  was  not  always  easy  to  live  with.  When 
Lorenzo  was  absent,  and  it  rained  every  day  at  Careggi, 
Messer  Angelo  fretted  and  fumed  and  quarrelled  with 
Madonna  Clarice  until  she  declared  his  presence  to  be 
intolerable.  Then  Lorenzo  sent  him  to  Fiesole,  where 
he  wrote  his  Rusticus,  and  consoled  himself  with  the 
company  of  Pico  della  Mirandola,  the  accomplished 
youth  whom  Poliziano  called  "  the  Phoenix  who  nested 
in  the  Medici  laurel."  Pico  was  often  the  guest  of 
the  brothers  Benivieni,  whose  villa  "  Le  Querce  "  was 
just  across  the  valley,  while  Ficino  spent  much  of  his 
time  at  the  villa  Marmigliana  at  Maiano  and  finished 
his  translation  of  Plato  there  in  1480.  Together  the 
three  humanists  strolled  along  these  pleasant  hills, 
visiting  the  home  of  Boccaccio,  and  the  Valley  of  his 
Fair  Ladies,  and  hearing  from  Girolamo  Benivieni  of 
his  friend,  the  great  Friar-preacher,  who  had  persuaded 
him  to  leave  off  writing  carnival  songs,  and  compose 
hymns  for  the  children  of  San  Marco. 

There   is   a   delightful    letter,    in    which    Poliziano 
begs    Marsilio    Ficino    to    join    him    at    the    Medici 

villa. 

16 


GARDENS  OF  FLORENTINE  HUMANISTS 

"  When  the  summer  heat  becomes  too  great  at  Car- 
eggi,  do  not  fail  to  seek  our  Fiesolan  villa.  There  is 
abundance  of  water  here,  and,  as  we  are  on  the  edge 
of  a  valley,  but  little  sun,  and  the  wind  is  certainly 
never  lacking.  The  villa  itself  lies  off  the  road,  in 
a  dense  wood,  but  commands  a  view  of  the  whole 
city,  and  although  the  district  is  thickly  populated 
I  enjoy  that  solitude  dear  to  those  who  have  fled 
from  town.  More  than  this,  I  have  a  double  attraction 
to  offer.  Often  Pico,  appearing  unexpectedly  from 
his  oak-woods,  drags  me  out  of  these  shades  to  share 
his  supper.  This,  as  you  know,  is  frugal  but  sufficient, 
well  seasoned  with  pleasant  conversation  and  jests. 
But  come  and  be  my  guest,  and  your  supper  shall  be 
as  good  and  your  wine  perhaps  better.  For  in  this 
I  will  venture  to  dispute  the  prize  with  Pico."  l 

Lorenzo  made  many  improvements  in  the  gardens  at 
Careggi,  collecting  all  manner  of  rare  plants  and  exotics 
and~  adorning  them  with  fine  bronzes,  such  as  the 
superb  statue  of  David  and  the  beautiful  fountain  with 
the  boy  strangling  a  dolphin,  by  Andrea  Verrocchio, 
which  are  now  in  Florence.  Not  content  with  the 
villas  erected  by  Cosimo,  in  1485  he  employed  Giuliano 
di  Sangallo  to  build  him  a  new  country  house  at  Poggio 
a  Caiano,  on  the  banks  of  the  Ombrone,  half-way 
between  Florence  and  Pistoia.  The  grand  double  flight 
of  steps  leading  to  the  upper  loggia  and  the  vaulted 
hall,  which  Vasari  calls  the  loftiest  he  had  ever  seen, 

1  A.  Poliziano,  Opere>  p.  135. 

17  B 


QARDENS  OF  THE.  RENAISSANCE 

are  still  standing.  The  charming  frescoes  on  the  walls 
were  painted  by  Andrea  del  Sarto  and  his  scholars  to 
commemorate  the  gifts  of  parrots,  apes,  and  other 
animals  that  were  presented  to  the  Magnifico  in  1488 
by  the  Sultan  of  Babylon,  and  placed  in  the  menagerie 
at  Poggio/  Among  these  was  a  giraffe  which  excited 
so  much  interest  that  it  was  sent  round  to  the  convents 
to  gratify  the  curiosity  of  the  nuns.  "  The  creature 
will  eat  anything,"  writes  Tribaldo  de'  Rossi.  "  It  pokes 
its  nose  into  every  peasant's  basket,  and  is  so  gentle 
that  it  will  take  an  apple  from  a  child's  hand.  But  it 
died  on  January  2,  and  everybody  was  sorry  for  the 
beautiful  spotted  giraffe." 

The  vast  gardens  which  Lorenzo  laid  out  on  the 
ground  sloping  down  to  the  river,  the  orchards  and 
mulberry  trees  which  he  planted  in  order  to  encourage 
the  silk  trade,  and  the  woods  which  he  stocked  with 
peacocks  and  pheasants,  quails  and  waterfowl,  have 
been  described  by  Michele  Verini  in  prose  and  by 
Poliziano  in  verse.  But  in  spite  of  the  strong  dykes 
that  were  built  to  protect  the  gardens  from  the  winter 
floods,  one  day  the  Ombrone  broke  its  banks,  and 
swept  away  the  islet  which  Lorenzo  had  planted  with 
rare  herbs  and  trees.  Like  a  true  humanist,  he  con- 
soled himself  for  this  disaster  by  writing  an  Ovidian 
poem,  in  which  he  describes  how  Ambra,  the  loveliest  of 

1  D.  Salvi.     (Domenici,  247.) 
18 


GARDENS  OF  FLORENTINE  HUMANISTS 

Caiano's  nymphs,  fled  from  the  embraces  of  the  river- 
god  Ombrone,  and  was  turned  into  a  rock  by  the 
goddess  Diana. 

In  his  later  years,  the  Magnifico  employed  Sangallo 
to  build  yet  another  villa  at  Lo  Spedaletto  on  the 
heights  near  Volterra,  where  he  spent  the  autumn 
months  in  the  hope  that  the  mountain  air  might  benefit 
his  failing  health.  There  Botticelli,  Ghirlandaio,  and 
Filippino  decorated  the  hall  with  paintings  of  Lorenzo's 
favourite  Greek  myths,  and  traces  of  colour  may  still 
be  seen  on  a  loggia  in  the  garden.  But  of  all  these 
villas,  Careggi  is  the  one  most  closely  associated  with 
Lorenzo's  memory.  Here  every  year,  on  the  birthday 
of  Plato,  he  gave  a  banquet  to  the  Florentine  Academy, 
and  it  was  here,  like  his  grandfather,  that  he  died. 

Seldom  have  comfort  and  splendour,  richness  and 
simplicity,  the  beauties  of  Art  and  Nature,  been  more 
happily  combined  than  in  these  villas,  where  Lorenzo, 
himself  the  most  perfect  of  hosts,  entertained  the  fore- 
most scholars  of  the  age,  where  Pulci  recited  romances 
from  his  Morgante  for  the  amusement  of  Monna 
Lucrezia,and  the  witty  chaplain  Matteo  Franco  delighted 
and  annoyed  the  guests  by  turn  with  his  sallies.  Many 
of  the  city  gardens  were  also  intimately  associated  with 
the  life  of  its  humanists.  Lorenzo  adorned  the  gardens 
of  his  palace  in  the  Via  Larga  with  excellent  paintings 
and  antique  marbles,  and  threw  them  open  to  artists 

19 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

and  students.  Here  Poliziano  and  Pico  discoursed  of 
classical  myths  and  Greek  ideals,  and  Botticelli  and  the 
young  Michelangelo  studied  bas-reliefs  and  sarcophagi 
in  the  myrtle  groves  and  cypress  avenues  under  the 
shadow  of  San  Marco.  The  members  of  the  Academy 
often  met  in  the  Oricellari  gardens,  beyond  Santa  Maria 
Novella,  where,  in  later  days,  Machiavelli  fired  the 
patriotic  enthusiasm  of  the  young  Florentines  with  his 
lectures  on  Roman  heroes,  and  Giovanni  Rucellai's  play, 
Rosmunda,  was  acted  in  the  presence  of  Pope  Leo  the 
Tenth. 

All  over  the  hills  near  Florence  villas  sprang  up,  built 
by  the  friends  and  kinsfolk  of  the  Medici  on  these 
delicious  sites,  "where,"  in  Messer  Agnolo's  words,  "  the 
air  is  pure  as  crystal,  and  the  views  are  divinely  beautiful, 
where  there  are  few  fogs  and  no  bitter  winds,  but  all 
things  are  good  and  wholesome."  l  The  Tornabuoni  ~~ 
had  their  country  house  at  Chiasso  Macerelli,  between 
Careggi  and  Fiesole.  Here  Piero  de'  Medici  met  and 
courted  Lucrezia  Tornabuoni,  the  admirable  mother 
who  was  the  object  of  the  Magnifico's  love  and  reverence, 
and  here  one  summer  day  in  1486  young  Lorenzo,  the 
hope  of  the  family,  led  home  Giovanna  degli  Albizzi, 
the  fairest  maiden  in  Florence,  as  his  bride.  Ghirlandaio 
painted  Giovanna's  portrait,  and  Botticelli  decorated 
the  plan  nobile  of  the  villa  with  two  famous  frescoes 

1  Del  Cover  no  della  Famiglia^  105. 
2O 


GARDENS  OF  FLORENTINE  HUMANISTS 

representing  the  Graces  doing  homage  to  the  bride, 
while  her  accomplished  husband,  "  the  friend  of  all  the 
Muses,"  is  welcomed  by  the  Arts  and  Sciences.  To- 
day Sandro's  frescoes  hang  on  the  staircase  of  the  Louvre, 
and  Ghirlandaio's  portrait  of  the  lovely  maiden,  a 
masterpiece  of  Florentine  art,  is  the  pride  of  Mr. 
Pierpont  Morgan's  library  at  New  York.  Only  the 
old  white  house  remains,  with  the  square  tower  and 
pillared  loggia,  and  a  doorway  with  the  Tornabuoni  arms 
carved  in  stone  amid  a  tangled  thicket  of  roses  and 
jessamine. 

At  the  foot  of  Monte  Morello,  two  miles  beyond 
Careggi,  stood  another  country  house  closely  con- 
nected with  a  younger  branch  of  the  Medici.  This 
was  the  beautiful  villa  of  Castello,  built,  says  Vasari, 
"  with  rare  skill  by  Cosimo's  nephew,  Pier  Francesco." 
In  front  of  the  house  was  a  wide  lawn  with  tanks 
of  water  divided  by  clipped  hedges  and  long  avenues 
of  mulberry-trees  leading  down  to  the  Arno,  while 
behind,  the  gardens  were  laid  out  in  terraces,  adorned 
with  statues  and  fountains,  against  the  steep  hillside. 
Castello  was  the  scene  of  many  brilliant  festivities  in 
the  days  of  Pier  Francesco's  son  Lorenzo,  the  intimate 
friend  of  Poliziano  and  patron  of  Botticelli.  For  him 
Sandro  painted  those  great  pictures  of  "  Primavera " 
and  the  "  Birth  of  Venus,"  in  which  the  humanists'  love 
of  old  myths  and  delight  in  the  joyous  May-time  alike 

21 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

find  expression,  and  which  in  Vasari's  time  still  hung 
on  the  villa  walls.  It  was  to  Castello  that  Caterina 
Sforza,  the  heroic  Madonna  of  Forli,  came  to  end  her 
days  after  her  cruel  captivity  in  Rome,  while  her  little 
son,  afterwards  the  great  captain,  Giovanni  delle  bande 
Nere,  was  kept  in  hiding  and  brought  up  in  girl's 
clothes  by  the  good  nuns  of  Annalena.  Giovanni's  son 
Cosimo  became  the  first  Grand  Duke  of  Florence, 
and  employed  Buontalenti  and  Tribolo  to  lay  out  the 
gardens  of  Castello  on  a  grander  scale  and  adorn  them 
with  the  splendid  fountains,  the  grottoes,  and  labyrinths 
which  excited  the  admiration  of  Montaigne  and  Evelyn. 
-  The  sister  villa  of  Petraja,  which  stands  a  mile  off 
at  the  other  end  of  an  ilex-wood,  originally  belonged 
to  the  Brunelleschi  and  Strozzi  families,  and  still 
retains  its  ancient  tower,  but  was  confiscated  by  Cosimo 
de'  Medici  after  the  rebellion  of  Filippo  Strozzi,  and 
became  this  prince's  favourite  residence.  Another 
house  which,  with  its  strong  walls  and  towers,  bears  a 
marked  resemblance  to  Careggi,  is  Villa  Salviati.  It 
was  the  residence  of  this  family  for  three  hundred  and 
fifty  years,  and  the  lovely  terraced  gardens  looking 
towards  Fiesole  were  laid  out  by  Jacopo  Salviati,  the 
son-in-law  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici,  whose  daughter 
Maria  married  Giovanni  delle  bande  Nere,  and  became 
the  mother  of  the  first  Tuscan  Grand  Duke. 

Another  kinsman  of  the  Medici, 

22 


GARDENS  OF   FLORENTINE  HUMANISTS 

the  fine  old  citizen  who  thanked  God  that  he  was 
born  in  the  days  of  Cosimo,  built  a  villa  at  Quaraccjii, 
which  he  spared  no  pains  or  expense  to  beautify.  His 
son  married  Lorenzo's  sister  Nannina,  and  his  grand- 
son Giovanni,  who  was  Castellan  of  Sant'  Angelo  in 
the  reign  of  Leo  the  Tenth,  wrote  a  charming  poem 
on  the  bees — "  Le  Api " — in  which  he  describes  this 
beloved  country  house.  The  poet  dwells  fondly  on 
his  recollections  of  the  delicious  spot,  and  recalls  the 
whispering  reeds  in  the  pool,  the  bees  and  butterflies 
gathering  honey  from  lilies  and  roses,  the  goats  feeding 
in  the  meadow  and  the  swallows  circling  in  the  air,  the 
clear  stream  and  grassy  lawns,  for  which  he  sighed 
in  the  hot  summer  months.  But  he  died  in  Rome 
a  year  afterwards,  and  never  saw  Quaracchi  again. 

Many  of  these  gardens  have  perished  altogether, 
and  those  which  remained  were  for  the  most  part 
transformed  into  sumptuous  pleasure-houses  in  the 
seventeenth  or  eighteenth  century.  But  all  alike 
were  modelled  on  the  plan  of  Pliny's.  Tuscan  villa, 
with  a  portico  opening  on  the  xystus  or  terrace,  walls 
bordered  with  clipped  box  or  ilex  hedges  leading  to 
grassy  lawns  adorned  with  fountains  and  marble  seats. 
~  The  view  from  the  house  or  terrace  was  always  a 
special  feature.  The  site  of  the  house  was  chosen 
chiefly  for  the  sake  of  the  prospect,  whether,  as  at 
Castello  and  Poggo  a  Caiano,  you  looked  out  on 

23 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

grassy  lawns  and  clear  pools,  or,  as  at  Fiesole  and 
Poggio  Gherardo,  you  saw  all  Valdarno  lying  at  your 
feet,  with  the  mountains  of  Carrara  in  the  distance  and 
the  domes  and  towers  of  Florence  rising  out  of  the 
violet  haze.  The  landscape  formed  an  important  part 
of  the  garden  and  was  included  in  the  general  com- 
position. Cypress  and  ilex  avenues  made  fine  per- 
spectives along  the  hillside  ;  the  beauty  _  oil.  distant 
peaks  and  far  blue  plains  was  heightened  by  the  over- 
arching trees  that  framed  in  the  vista.  Close  to  the 
house  lay  the  Giardino  segreto^  well  shut  in  by  clipped 
hedges  of  ilex  or  laurel — -a  little  garden  with  sunny 
walks  for  winter  days  and  a  bo&o  to  afford  a  retreat 
from  the  noonday  sun,  a  lawn  with  a  fountain  in  the 
centre  and  a  sunk  parterre  filled  with  roses  and  pinks. 
Lilies  and  sunflowers  in  big  marble  or  terra-cotta  vases 
might  be  placed  along  the  balustrade  of  the  retaining 
wall,  and  roses  and  jessamine  were  grown  on  trellis- 
work  or  allowed  to  wander  at  will  over  the  low  stone 
parapet.  But  fewjlpwers,  as  a  rule,  we  suspect,  were 
to  be  found  in  Renaissance  gardens.  Herein,  as  Sir 
William  Temple  remarks,  lies  the  great  difference 
between  English  and  Italian  gardens.  / 

"  In  the  warmer  regions,  fruits  and  flowers  of  the 
best  sort  are  so  common  and  so  easy  of  production 
that  they  grow  in  the  fields  and  are  not  worth  the 
cost  of  enclosing,  or  the  care  of  more  than  ordinary 

24 


GARDENS  OF  FLORENTINE  HUMANISTS 

cultivation.  On  the  other  side,  the  great  pleasures  of 
these  countries  are  coolness  of  air  and  whatever  looks 
cool  even  to  the  eyes,  and  relieves  them  from  the 
unpleasant  sight  of  dusty  streets  and  parched  fields. 
This  makes  the  gardens  of  those  countries  to  be 
I  chiefly  valued  by  largeness  of  extent,  which  gives 
\  greater  play  and  openness  of  air,  by  shades  of  trees,  by 
frequency  of  living  streams  or  fountains,  by  perspectives, 
by  statues,  and  by  pillars  and  obelisks  of  stone, 
scattered  up  and  down,  which  all  conspire  to  make  any 
place  look  fresh  and  cool.  We,  on  the  contrary,  are 
careless  of  shade  and  seldom  curious  in  fountains. 
Good  statues  are  in  the  reach  of  few  men,  and  common 
ones  are  greatly  despised  and  neglected." 

Shade,  no  doubt,  was  one  of  the  chief  require- 
ments of  Italian  gardens.  A  wood  was  always 
planted  near  the  house,  and  ilexrgroves  and  tunnels 
of  pleached  and  knotted  trees  afforded  a  soft  twilight 
on  blazing  August  days.  The  perennial  verdure  of 
cypress  and  pine,  ilex  and  box  was  invaluable  in  the 
winter  months,  while  in  spring  and  summer  it  formed 
a  pleasant  contrast  to  the  lighter  foliage  of  elm  and 
plane,  of  orange  and  citron  trees.  Grottoes,  with 
marble  basins,  in  which  the  water  trickled  over  beds 
of  moss  and  maidenhair,  supplied  a  cool  retreat  in 
the  hot  season,  and  were  prominent  features  in  the 
ducal  gardens  of  Castello  and  Boboli.  The  pleasant 
sound  of  falling  water  and  murmuring  streams  was 
1  Temple,  Works,  iii.  217. 

25 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

indispensable  to  perfect  enjoyment.  A  fountain,  as 
Crescenzi  writes,  is  necessary  to  the  smallest  garden. 
Michelozzo  and  his  brother  architects  built  aqueducts 
and  brought  water  from  the  Arno  and  Mugnone  to 
supply  the  fountains  of  the  Medici  villas,  and  the 
best  sculptors  of  the  day,  from  Verrocchio  to  Tribolo, 
lavished  their  skill  and  ingenuity  on  the  bronze  and 
marble  putti  and  colossal  figures  which  adorned  them. 
Statues,  again,  were  a  decorative  element  of  which 
the  Florentine  garden-architect  made  extensive  use. 
At  first  ji  few  antique  busts  were  placed  along  the 
parapet  of  the  terrace  or  under  the  central  loggia. 
But,  ere  long,  Greek___gods  and  heroes,  fauns  and 
naiads  were  seen  at  the  end  of  every  alley,  while 
giants  and  caryatides  were  introduced  to  support  walls 
and  porticoes. 

One  great  charm  of  Renaissance  gardens  was  the 
skilful  manner  in  which  Nature  and  Art  were  blended 
together.  .  The  formal  design  of  the  giardino  segreto 
agreed  with  the  straight  lines  of  the  house,  and  the 
walls,  with  their  clipped  hedges,  led  on  to  the  wilder, 
freer  growth  of  woodland  and  meadow,  while  the 
dense  shade  of  the  bosco  supplied  an  effective  contrast 
to  the  sunny  spaces  of  lawn  and  flower-bed.  The 
ancient  practice  of  cutting  box-trees  into  fantastic 
shapes,  known  to  the  Romans  as  the  topiary  art, 

was    largely    restored    in    the    fifteenth    century    and 

26 


GARDENS  OF  FLORENTINE  HUMANISTS 

became  an  essential  part  of  Italian  gardens.  In  that 
strange  romance  printed  at  the  Aldine  Press  in  1499, 
the  Hypernotomachia  of  Francesco  Colonna,  Polyphilus 
and  his  beloved  are  led  through  an  enchanted  garden, 
where  banquet-houses,  temples,  and  statues  stand  in 
the  midst  of  myrtle  groves  and  labyrinths  on  the 
banks  of  a  shining  stream.  The  pages  of  this 
curious  book  are  adorned  with  a  profusion  of  wood- 
cuts, by  some  Venetian  engraver,  representing  pergolas, 
fountains,  sunk  parterres,  pillared  toggle,  clipped  box 
and  ilex  trees  of  every  variety,  which  give  a  good  idea 
of  the  garden-architecture  then  in  vogue. 

Many  other  delightful  pictures  of  Tuscan  gardens 
are  to  be  found  in  the  works  of  contemporary  painters. 
Everyone  who  has  visited  the  Campo  Santo  of  Pisa 
will  remember  the  gay  knights  and  ladies  seated  on 
the  grassy  bank  under  the  orange-groves  in  the  famous 
fresco  of  the  "Triumph  of  Death,"  and  Puccio's 
"  Garden  of  Eden,"  with  the  rose-trellis  and  fruit 
trees,  the  song  birds,  and  marble  fountain  adorned 
with  lions'  heads.  In  the  cells  of  San  Marco,  Fra 
Angelico  shows  us  the  Magdalen  -and  her  risen  Lord 
walking  in  a  garden  planted  with  olive,  cypress,  and 
palm,  and  the  Archangel  bending  before  the  lowly 
Virgin  in  a  loggia  opening  on  the  convent  garden, 
where  pinks  and  daisies  flower  in  the  grass,  and  rose- 
bushes and  cypresses  rise  behind  the  wooden  paling. 

27 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Again,  in  the  paintings  of  that  devout  Piagnone 
artist,  Lorenzo  di  Credi,  we  are  allowed  charming 
glimpses  of  formal  gardens  with  broad  walks  and  ilex 
avenues  on  the  banks  of  running  streams.  Botticelli 
thrones  his  Madonna  in  a  bower  of  palm  and  olive, 
cypress  and  myrtle,  with  tall  white  lilies  and  red  and 
white  roses  standing  in  bowls  along  the  marble  parapet, 
and  places  the  Court  of  Venus  in  a  woodland  glade 
where  the  Graces  dance  hand  in  hand  on  the  flowery 
turf. 

But  of  all  these  old  Florentines,  none  took  greater 
delight  in  rural  scenes  than  Fra  Angelico's  pupil, 
Benozzo  Gozzoli.  In  the  Campo  Santo  of  Pisa  this 
excellent  artist  painted  a  whole  series  of  Tuscan  land- 
scapes as  a  setting  for  the  history  of  the  patriarchs, 
to  the  great  admiration  of  his  contemporaries.  The 
Tower  of  Babel  rears  its  lofty  pile  among  terraced 
gardens  and  blossoming  orchards  ;  youths  and  maidens 
pluck  the  purple  grapes  from  the  pergola  over 
Noah's  head ;  while  the  Renaissance  portico,  where  St. 
Augustine  teaches  rhetoric,  opens  on  a  hillside  crowned 
with  smiling  villa-gardens.  Still  more  to  Benozzo's 
taste  was  the  task  of  painting  the  walls  of  the  Medici 
chapel  in  Via  Larga  which  Cosimo's  son  Piero  gave 
him  in  1459.  Here  he  had  to  commemorate  the 
Council  of  Florence  and  introduce  portraits  of  the 

Greek   Emperor   and    Patriarch,    of  Cosimo  and    his 

28 


GARDENS  OF  FLORENTINE  HUMANISTS 

family,  in  one  great  fresco  of  the  Adoration  of  the 
Magi.  All  through  the  summer  months,  while  most 
people  were  taking  their  ease  in  villeggiatura,  Benozzo 
toiled  to  satisfy  the  great  man  at  Careggi,  who  called 
him  his  amico  singularissimo.  The  heat  was  intense 
that  August,  and  the  precious  ultramarine  melted  so 
fast  that  the  painter  dared  not  leave  his  work  for  a 
moment,  even  to  go  to  Careggi.  But  sometimes  of 
an  evening  Piero  would  ride  in  to  the  city  to  see  the 
fresco,  and  offer  a  suggestion  or  make  some  criticism. 

"  I  am  working  with  all  my  might,"  wrote  Benozzo  to 
him,  "  and  if  I  fail  it  will  be  from  lack  of  knowledge, 
not  from  want  of  zeal.  God  knows  I  have  no  other 
thought  in  my  heart  but  how  best  to  perfect  my  work 
and  satisfy  your  wishes." 

On  the  chapel  walls  he  set  forth  the  great  procession 
winding  its  way  across  the  Apennines,  the  Three 
Kings  and  their  glittering  train  in  all  the  bravery  of 
rich  attire  and  gallant  bearing,  with  the  white-walled 
villas  and  bell-towers  peeping  out  of  the  olive-woods 
behind  them.  But  he  filled  the  sanctuary  with  troops 
of  bright  angelic  beings,  with  flower-like  faces  and 
rainbow  wings,  chanting  Glorias  or  kneeling  in  adora- 
tion at  the  manger  of  Bethlehem.  And  in  the  back- 
ground, instead  of  rugged  Apennines  and  wooded 
hillside,  he  painted  stone  pines  and  cypresses,  growing 

tall  and  straight  against  the  sky,  a  trellis  laden  with 

29 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

roses  and  clusters  of  ripe  pomegranates,  blue-breasted 
peacocks  trailing  their  starry  plumes  over  green  lawns 
and  marble  balustrades,  and  angels  tending  the  flowers 
of  this  new  Eden,  or  dancing  forward  with  their  lap 
full  of  roses.  It  is  the  garden  of  Careggi  transformed 
into  a  vision  of  Paradise. 


3° 


THE   GARDENS   OF   ESTE   AND 
GONZAGA    PRINCES 

"  Bel  paese  e  Lombardia, 
Degno  assai,  ricca  e  galante." 

GASPARE  VISCONTI. 

THE  gardens  of  North  Italy,  in  the  days  of  the 
Renaissance,  were  especially  famous.  This  was,  no 
doubt,  in  a  great  measure  owing  to  the  abundance  of 
water  and  consequent  fertility  of  the  soil.  Castiglione, 
in  the  letters  which  he  sent  to  his  mother  at  Mantua, 
constantly  alludes  to  the  barren  nature  of  the  ground 
at  Urbino,  and  remarks  that  even  in  the  more  fruitful 
province  of  Pesaro  nothing  grows  as  it  does  "  at  home 
with  us  in  Lombardy,"  a  name  commonly  applied  to 
the  whole  district  north  of  the  Apennines.  But  the 
beauty  of  the  gardens  in  North  Italy  was  also  largely 
due  to  the  number  of  princes  who  held  their  courts 
in  this  favoured  region.  Milan,  Ferrara,  Mantua, 
Bologna,  Carpi,  Correggio,  and  Forli,  were  all  the 
seats  of  reigning  families,  whose  courts  were  centres 
of  light  and  learning,  and  whose  homes  were  adorned 
with  all  that  was  fairest  in  art  and  nature. 

Chief  among  these  was  the  house  of  Este,  the  oldest 

31 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

and  most  beloved  of  all  the  dynasties  that  held  sway 
between  the  Adriatic  and  the  Mediterranean.  It  was 
a  common  saying  that  three  ruling  passions — the  love 
of  building,  of  travel,  and  of  threatricals — distinguished 
all  the  members  of  the  ducal  family.  In  those  days 
the  art  of  building,  as  we  have  seen,  included  the  laying 
out  of  the  gardens,  an  object  that  was  held  worthy  to 
occupy  the  attention  of  the  best  architects.  Accord- 
ingly, the  sumptuous  pleasure-houses  and  delicious 
gardens  which  sprang  up  all  round  Ferrara  in  the 
fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries  were  among  the  most 
remarkable  features  of  the  golden  age  when  the  white 
eagle  of  Este  floated  from  the  towers  of  the  Castello 
Vecchio.  If  no  other  record  of  these  vanished  palaces 
remained,  the  works  of  Boiardo  and  Ariosto  would 
show  how  great  a  part  they  played  in  that  court  life 
which  is  so  vividly  reflected  in  the  verses  of  these 
poets.  The  gardens  of  Belfiore  and  the  Schifanoia, 
of  Belriguardo  and  Belvedere,  were  the  scene  of  those 
manifold  pageants  and  festivities  that  were  held  in 
honour  of  illustrious  guests,  or  of  births  and  marriages 
in  the  ducal  family,  and  helped  to  make  each  incident 
in  the  Prince's  private  life  a  memorable  event  in  the 
history  of  his  people.  These  wide  terraces,  flanked 
with  loggias  and  adorned  with  marble  fountains  and 
statues,  these  grassy  lawns  surrounded  with  hedges  of 
box  and  laurel,  with  groves  of  ilex  and  cypress,  afforded 

32 


GARDENS  OF  ESTE  AND  GONZAGA  PRINCES 

an  admirable  setting  for  the  pastoral  plays  and  tourna- 
ments, the  banquets  and  dances,  which  lent  so  much 
romance  and  charm  to  daily  existence. 

The  three  sons  of  Niccolo  d'Este,  who  reigned  in 
turn  over  Ferrara  in  the  fifteenth  century,  were  all 
men  of  culture.  Leonello,  the  pupil  of  the  learned 
humanist  Guarino,  and  the  friend  of  Alberti  and 
Pisanello,  was  that  rare  being  who,  in  the  eyes  of  his 
contemporaries,  fulfilled  Plato's  ideal  of  the  philosopher 
upon  the  throne.  During  the  nine  years  of  his  wise 
and  peaceful  rule  this  gentle  Prince  made  great  im- 
provements both  in  his  town  house  and  in  his  villa  of 
Belfiore  without  the  walls.  He  planted  a  fair  garden 
under  the  windows  of  his  study  in  the  Corte  Vecchia 
with  white  lilies  and  dark  cypresses,  with  roses,  myrtles, 
and  violets,  as  well  as  fruit  trees  bearing  sweet  apples 
and  lemons,  "which  he  liked  for  their  bitter  taste." 
Here,  in  the  rooms  hung  with  the  portraits  of  Roman 
heroes,  including  that  of  Julius  Caesar,  which  the 
painter  Pisanello  gave  him  as  a  wedding  present,  the 
little  band  of  humanists  whom  Leonello  had  brought 
to  lecture  at  the  University  met  to  hear  the  wisdom  of 
Guarino  or  to  discuss  the  latest  codex  which  the  Marquis 
had  acquired  for  his  library.  On  summer  evenings 
Leonello  would  walk  to  Belfiore  with  his  friends  or 
ride  out  under  the  stars  to  his  more  distant  villa  at 
Belriguardo,  discussing  the  story  of  Cato's  death  or 

33  c 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Caesar's  campaigns,  and  taking  a  small  volume  of 
Sallust  for  reference  in  his  pocket.1 

As  the  circle  of  humanists  at  his  Court  grew  larger 
these  meetings  were  generally  held  at  Belfiore,  under 
the  spreading  boughs  of  a  laurel  tree  in  the  garden 
or  else  in  the  sunny  rooms  which  he  had  built  on  the 
south  side  of  the  house  for  use  in  winter,  and  adorned 
with  choice  pictures  and  antique  marbles. 

The  artists  whose  works  Leonello  admired  the  most 
were  those  who  reproduced  natural  beauty  the  most 
closely.  The  triptych  by  the  Flemish  master,  Rogier 
van  der  Weyden,  which  hung  in  his  cabinet,  contained  a 
picture  of  Adam  and  Eve,  in  which  the  hills,  meadows, 
and  streams  of  the  Garden  of  Eden  were  all  painted 
"with  marvellous  fidelity."  His  favourite  painter, 
Pisanello,  was  noted,  as  Guarino  says  in  his  verses, 
for  the  "  wonderful  felicity  with  which  he  renders  the 
delicate  hues  of  the  spring  foliage,  the  sunlit  slopes 
of  the  hills,  the  birds  whose  voices  fill  the  air  with 
song."  Whole  sheets  covered  with  studies  of  roses 
and  grasses  by  the  hand  of  the  Veronese  master  are 
still  preserved  in  the  Louvre  and  confirm  the  truth 
of  the  old  humanist's  words.  Pisanello's  noble  pro- 
file of  Leonello  himself,  in  the  Morelli  Gallery  at 
Bergamo,  has  a  background  of  exquisite  wild  roses, 
while  his  portrait  of  the  Marquis's  sister,  Ginevra,  the 
hapless  bride  of  Sigismondo  Malatesta,  is  adorned  with 

1  A.  Decembrio,  Politics.  Litterarice,  i.  3,  ii.  30. 

34 


GARDENS  OF  ESTE  AND  GONZAGA  PRINCES 

a  bower  of  pinks  and  columbines,  where  red  admiral 
and  swallow-tail  butterflies  flit  to  and  fro,  and  a  sprig 
of  juniper  on  the  lady's  shoulder  denotes  her  name. 

Leonello's  brothers  shared  his  love  of  art  if  they 
hardly  equalled  him  in  devotion  to  learning.  Borso, 
who  first  bore  the  title  of  Duke,  completed  the 
Schifanoia  Palace  begun  by  his  grandfather,  and  em- 
ployed Cossa  and  his  followers  to  paint  the  interior 
with  frescoes  of  the  months  and  seasons.  The  low 
red-brick  house  is  still  standing  among  the  fruit  trees 
at  the  end  of  the  grass-grown  street,  with  Borso's  uni- 
corn on  the  marble  portal  and  his  brother  Ercole's 
diamond  wrought  in  the  terra-cotta  frieze.  Within  are 
the  faded  and  half-effaced  pictures  which  tell  of  life 
in  the  court  and  camp,  in  the  town  and  countryside. 
The  Duke  is  there,  magnificent  in  cloth  of  gold,  riding 
out  to  the  chase,  administering  justice  to  his  subjects 
and  looking  on  with  courtiers  and  ladies  at  the  famous 
races  that  were  run  for  the  Palio  on  St.  George's  Day. 
We  see  the  peasant  at  work  in  the  harvest  and  vintage, 
the  merchant  at  the  counter,  the  scholar  at  his  books, 
women  bending  over  the  embroidery  loom,  youths  and 
maidens  playing  viols  and  whispering  together  among 
the  pomegranate  trees  on  the  flowery  grass  where  the 
rabbits  are  at  play,  while  Venus  drives  her  chariot 
drawn  by  swans  under  a  blue  sky  flecked  with  soft 
white  clouds.  A  scene  in  which  the  Duke  was  repre- 
sented receiving  a  basket  of  cherries  from  a  child  has 

35 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

completely  disappeared,  but  another  remains  in  which 
he  is  seen,  with  a  kindly  smile  on  his  face,  giving  a 
piece  of  gold  to  his  pet  dwarf. 

The  Schifanoia  frescoes  were  the  glory  of  Borso's 
reign,  but  Duke  Ercole  was  the  great  builder  who  made 
Ferrara  the  finest  city  in  North  Italy.  Soon  after  his 
accession,  he  sent  to  ask  Lorenzo  de'  Medici  for  a  copy 
of  Alberti's  Treatise  on  Architecture,  and  carried  out  his 
improvements  on  the  principles  laid  down  by  the  great 
writer.  The  stately  symmetry  of  the  well-kept  streets 
and  wide  squares,  the  fine  palaces  standing  in  their 
blossoming  gardens,  were  the  admiration  of  every  visitor 
to  Ferrara.  It  was  Ercole  who  laid  out  the  delizie,  or 
gardens,  of  the  Schifanoia,  where  his  son  Alfonso  was 
born  in  July  1476. 

"  A  beautiful  fete,"  writes  the  Ferrarese  chronicler, 
"  was  given  in  honour  of  the  child's  christening.  A 
hundred  trumpeters,  pipers,  and  tambourine-players 
made  music,  and  the  tables  of  the  Sala  Grande  were 
decked  with  a  splendid  display  of  confetti  representing 
lords  and  ladies,  castles,  trees,  and  animals  in  gilt  and 
coloured  sugar.  But  as  soon  as  the  palace  doors  were 
opened,  the  people  rushed  in  and  carried  off  everything, 
leaving  the  board  bare." 

The  Schifanoia  Gardens  were  the  scene  of  another 
brilliant  festa  in  the  following  summer,  when  Ercole 

1  Diario  Ferrarese,  p.  250.     (Muratori,  xxiv.) 

36 


GARDENS  OF  ESTE  AND  GONZAGA  PRINCES 

entertained  his  future  son-in-law,  Lodovico  Sforza,  and 
his  two  brothers,  and  two  blind  poets  sang  and  played 
the  lyre  while  the  Duke  and  his  guests  were  at  supper 
in  the  loggia. 

In  these  early  years  Ercole  built  the  grand  marble 
stairway  of  the  Corte  Vecchia,  one  of  the  few  memorials 
of  his  reign  still  in  existence,  and  laid  out  the  Barco 
and  Barchetto.  The  Barchetto  was  a  wooded  enclosure 
to  the  east  of  the  villa  of  Belfiore,  with  a  round  fish- 
pond and  marble  loggia,  surrounded  by  tall  poplars  and 
fruit  trees,  which  no  one  might  touch  without  incurring 
heavy  penalties.  The  laying  out  of  the  vast  hunting 
ground  known  as  the  Barco  involved  the  destruction  of 
many  houses  and  churches  between  the  north  wall  of 
the  city  and  the  banks  of  the  Po.  This  New  Forest  of 
the  Este  princes  was  peopled  with  stags,  gazelles,  ante- 
lopes, and  wild  boars,  as  well  as  with  the  leopards  and 
spotted  giraffes  to  which  Niccolo  da  Correggio  alludes  in 
his  fable  of  Psyche.  During  the  war  of  1482,  when  the 
Duke  lay  ill  in  the  Castello,  the  Venetian  invaders 
planted  the  banner  of  St.  Mark  in  the  Barco,  killed  the 
deer  and  peacocks,  and  carried  off  the  giraffes  and  leo- 
pards to  Venice.  It  was  a  terrible  moment  in  the  history 
of  Ferrara.  But  when  peace  was  restored  a  new  era  of 
prosperity  dawned,  and  Ercole  returned  to  his  favourite 
pursuits  with  fresh  vigour.  "  The  Duke,"  complained 
one  of  his  subjects,  "  thinks  of  nothing  but  the  embel- 

37 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

lishment  of  this  his  city  of  Ferrara  and  the  building  of 
new  palaces." 

The  excellent  Duchess  Leonora,  born  and  bred  in 
the  sunny  gardens  of  Naples,  shared  her  lord's  tastes 
and  took  especial  delight  in  beautifying  the  grounds  of 
the  Castello,  now  the  chief  ducal  residence.  On  the 
banks  of  the  moat,  close  to  the  Gate  of  the  Lions,  was 
the  Garden  of  the  Padiglione,  so  called  from  the  marble 
pavilion  supported  by  pillars  which  stood  on  a  mount 
planted  with  pergolas  of  vines  and  roses.  Farther  west- 
ward was  the  Duchess's  Casino,  with  its  marble  baths 
and  halls  painted  by  Ercole  Roberti,  standing  in  a  par- 
terre of  flowers  set  round  with  thick  box  hedges.  Here 
was  the  beautiful  fountain  adorned  with  richly  carved 
marbles  upon  which  Duke  Ercole  had  bestowed  infinite 
thought  and  pains.  He  even  wrote  to  ask  Count 
Matteo  Boiardo  for  his  advice  on  the  subject,  but  the 
poet  replied  that  his  wife  was  ill  and  his  imagination  ill- 
disposed  for  such  matters  and  could  only  refer  him  to 
Alberti's  Trattato.2  Here,  too,  under  the  city  walls, 
were  the  kitchen  gardens  and  orchards,  a  plantation  of 
orange  and  lemon  trees  rarely  seen  in  these  parts,  known 
as  "  La  Cedraia,"  and  a  thick  ilex-wood  where  nightin- 
gales sang  on  the  summer  nights  and  rare  birds  of 
bright  plumage  sought  shelter  in  the  shade.  Ercole's 

1  Frizzi,  Storia  di  Ferrara,  iv.  148. 

2  Lettere  edite  e  inedite^  N.  Campanini,  393. 

38 


GARDENS  OF  ESTE  AND  GONZAGA  PRINCES 

son,  the  warlike  Alfonso  the  First,  built  the  new 
pleasure-house,  called  "La  Castellina"  from  its  castel- 
lated walls,  in  this  corner  of  the  grounds  near  the 
ramparts,  and  planted  a  triangle  with  pergolas  of  quince 
and  cherry,  plum  and  pear  trees,  and  avenues  of  elm 
and  cypress  all  converging  to  a  central  point.  His 
grandson,  another  Alfonso,  added  a  marble  flight  of  steps 
leading  from  the  Casino  to  the  Peschiera,  a  large  pond 
encircled  with  a  pillared  balustrade,  where  fish  darted 
to  and  fro  under  the  crystal  waters  and  rose  to  the  surface 
at  the  sound  of  a  tinkling  bell  to  be  fed  by  the  Duchess 
and  her  ladies.1 

In  his  later  years,  when  Duke  Ercole  laid  out  the  new 
district  known  as  the  Addizione  Erculea  to  the  north  of 
the  old  town,  he  planted  double  avenues  of  elms  along 
the  ramparts  which  enclosed  the  Certosa  and  villa  of  Bel- 
fiore,  thus  clothing  the  bastions  for  the  defence  of  the 
city  with  beautiful  verdure.  At  the  same  time  he  added 
a  splendid  chapel  and  frescoed  halls  to  the  palace  of 
Belriguardo,  which  was  said  to  contain  as  many  rooms 
as  days  of  the  year,  while  the  gardens,  with  their  wealth 
of  statuesque  fountains  and  skilfully  planned  perspec- 
tives commanding  superb  views  of  the  plains  and  river 
Po,  were  celebrated  throughout  Italy.  When,  in  the 
summer  of  1493,  Lodovico  Sforza  visited  Ferrara  with 
his  wife  and  child,  he  was  enchanted  with  this  villa,  and 
1  M.  A.  Guarini,  Compendia  historico  di  chiese  di  Ferrara,  pp.  57-59. 

39 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

declared  it  to  be  the  most  beautiful  which  he  had  ever 
seen.  One  May  evening,  after  the  young  Duchess 
Beatrice  and  her  mother  had  left  for  Venice,  Ercole 
took  his  son-in-law  to  spend  the  day  at  Belriguardo,  and 
entertained  him  and  his  Milanese  courtiers  at  a  banquet 
in  the  gardens. 

"  I  would  not  for  all  the  world,"  wrote  the  Moro  to 
his  wife,  "  have  missed  seeing  this  place.  For,  in  truth, 
I  have  never  seen  so  large  and  fine  a  house  and  gardens, 
or  one  that  is  so  well  laid  out  and  adorned  with  such 
excellent  paintings.  I  do  not  believe  there  is  such 
another  villa  in  the  whole  world,  at  once  so  noble  and 
spacious,  and  at  the  same  time  so  thoroughly  well- 
planned  and  comfortable.  To  say  the  truth,  if  I  were 
asked  to  decide  whether  Vigevano,  the  Castello  of 
Pavia,  or  this  house  were  the  finest  palace  in  the  world, 
the  Castello  must  forgive  me,  for  I  would  certainly 
choose  Belriguardo."  l 

But  even  the  splendours  of  Belriguardo  paled  by  the 
side  of  the  new  palace  of  Belvedere  which  Alfonso  the 
First  reared  twenty  years  later  on  an  island  in  the  Po, 
just  above  the  ancient  fortress  of  Castel  Tedaldo.  A 
flight  of  marble  stairs  led  from  the  water's  edge  to  a 
court  turfed  with  the  finest  grass,  surrounded  by  cut 
box  hedges,  with  a  superb  fountain  in  the  centre. 
Facing  this  grassy  court  stood  the  villa,  an  imposing 
building  with  porticos  and  colonnade  flanked  by  lofty 
1  E.  Motta,  Giornale  st.  d.  kit.  ital.,  vii.  387. 

4o 


GARDENS  OF  ESTE  AND  GONZAGA  PRINCES 

towers.  Within,  a  marble  atrium,  painted  by  Dossi 
with  cupids  and  nymphs,  opened  into  saloons  decorated 
with  frescoes  or  hung  with  tapestries.  On  the  other 
side  of  the  house,  between  the  Duke's  private  rooms 
and  the  chapel,  was  the  giardino  segreto^  a  sunk  parterre 
with  the  usual  low  box  hedges,  where  rare  flowers  and 
fruits  were  cultivated  and  the  water  of  countless  jets 
d'eau  splashed  into  marble  basins  supported  by  putti 
and  dolphins.  Beyond  this  was  a  menagerie  filled  with 
elephants,  ostriches,  and  other  rare  animals,  and  orchards 
and  ilex  woods  growing  down  to  the  riverside.  Here 
this  soldier  Duke,  whose  whole  reign  was  one  long 
struggle  with  three  successive  Popes,  loved  to  spend  his 
brief  intervals  of  peace  and  leisure,  saying  in  the  motto 
inscribed  on  his  mantelpiece  that  he  was  "  never  less 
alone  than  when  alone."  1 

Soon  the  fame  of  this  enchanted  palace  became  the 
theme  of  every  Court  poet.  Ariosto,  in  his  Orlando, 
sang  the  praises  of  the  joyous  isle  throned  on  the 
bosom  of  the  king  of  rivers,  the  "  bet  loco  "  whose  fruits 
are  fairer  than  the  apples  of  the  Hesperides,  and  whose 
herds  outnumber  the  flocks  of  Circe's  fold.  Giulio 
Cesare  Scaligero  wrote  a  poem  called  Elysium  dedi- 
cated to  Alfonso's  sister,  Isabella  d'Este,  describing 
this  terrestrial  paradise,  and  Tasso  celebrated  "  la  vaga 
isoletta  "  both  in  his  sonnets  and  in  his  Aminta.  It  was 
1  E.  Gruyer,  L'artferrarais,  i.  473. 

41 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

to  the  Belvedere  that  Alfonso's  son,  Ercole  the  Second, 
brought  his  bride,  Renee  de  France,  to  spend  the  night 
before  she  made  her  triumphal  entry  into  Ferrara. 
The  rejoicings  that  day  were  worthy  of  a  king's 
daughter,  and  when  the  bride  set  foot  on  the  deck  of 
the  Bucentaur,  the  sound  of  the  Duke's  famous  guns 
was  heard  as  far  as  Bologna. 

But  the  most  brilliant  fete  held  in  Renee' s  honour 
was  that  which  Monsignore  Ippolito,  the  young 
Archbishop  and  future  Cardinal,  gave  his  sister-in-law 
at  the  villa  of  Belfiore.  After  partaking  of  the  most 
delicate  viands  and  sweetmeats,  Renee  and  her  ladies 
fell  to  dancing,  an  accomplishment  in  which  the  French 
princess  excelled,  in  spite  of  her  short  stature  and  plain 
face.  Suddenly  the  sound  of  martial  music  was  heard 
in  the  garden,  the  ladies  stopped  dancing  and  rushed  to 
the  windows,  where  Don  Ippolito  himself  appeared 
riding  up  the  central  avenue  at  the  head  of  a 
splendid  troop  of  cavaliers  in  armour.  After  bowing 
low  to  Renee,  the  gallant  company  drew  up  at  one  end 
of  the  terrace,  and  the  ladies  were  admiring  the 
prancing  horses  and  rich  attire,  when  another  blast  of 
trumpets  rent  the  air,  the  great  gates  at  the  other  end 
of  the  garden  flew  open,  and  a  single  knight,  mounted 
on  a  white  charger  and  clad  in  white  and  gold  from  head 
to  foot,  rode  forth  and  challenged  all  comers  to  fight. 

"  Of  the  brave  deeds  that  followed  and  the  lances  that 

42 


GARDENS  OF  ESTE  AND  GONZAGA  PRINCES 

were  broken,"  wrote  the  secretary  Stabellino  to  Isabella 
at  Mantua,  "  I  need  say  no  more  when  you  learn  that 
this  solitary  knight-errant  all  in  white  was  none  other 
than  our  own  illustrious  Prince  Ercole."  l 

It  was  Ercole's  successor,  Alfonso  the  Second,  who 
conceived  the  idea  of  connecting  all  the  palaces  and 
gardens  in  different  parts  of  the  city  by  a  road  and 
waterway  reserved  exclusively  for  the  use  of  the  Court. 
The  Via  Ducale,  as  it  was  called,  consisted  of  a  canal 
flowing  between  grassy  banks  and  flowering  shrubs, 
with  a  carriage  road  on  either  side  shaded  by  tall  elms 
and  plane  trees,  and  a  footway  bordered  with  pleached 
olive  trees  and  a  thick  growth  of  vines.  By  this  means 
the  ducal  family  and  their  guests  could  go  by  boat  or 
carriage  or  else  on  foot  round  three  parts  of  the  city 
without  being  exposed  to  the  public  gaze.  Alfonso 
himself,  who  took  genuine  delight  in  gardening,  often 
spent  whole  mornings  riding  along  the  Viale  from  one 
villa  to  another,  planning  fresh  improvements  and 
examining  his  shrubs  and  flowers. 

Starting  from  the  Gate  of  the  Lions,  the  Viale  led 
through  the  Castello  Gardens  and  the  grounds  of 
Alfonso  the  First's  Castellina  to  the  Porta  S.  Benedetto, 
past  the  monastery  of  S.  Gabriele,  under  a  wall  covered 
with  a  trellis  of  pomegranate  trees.  Then,  turning  a 
sharp  corner,  it  followed  the  western  ramparts,  past  the 
1  B.  Fontana,  Renata  di  Francia^  i.  156. 

43 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

villa  of  Belfiore,  and  crossing  the  Via  degli  Angeli 
under  a  bridge,  ran  along  the  edges  of  the  Barchetto  to 
the  north-east  gates.  Here,  at  the  angle  of  the  city 
walls,  stood  the  Montagnola,  a  hill  planted  with  orange 
and  citron  groves  and  watered  by  running  streams 
descending  in  terra-cotta  conduits  from  the  summit. 
At  the  base  of  the  mount  was  the  Rotonda,  a  villa  built 
by  Ercole  the  Second,  with  cool  subterranean  halls, 
hidden  in  bowers  of  roses  and  jessamine,  which  were  a 
favourite  resort  of  the  Court  ladies  in  the  summer  heats. 

Further  still,  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  eastern  walls, 
looking  down  on  the  waters  of  the  Po,  the  Viale  reached 
yet  another  palace  built  by  Ercole  the  Second  at  the 
foot  of  a  hillock  known  as  the  Montagna  di  S.  Giorgio, 
made  from  the  soil  of  the  trenches  dug  by  Alfonso  the 
First  to  defend  Ferrara  against  Pope  Julius  the  Second. 
Here  Ercole  and  his  son  had  laid  out  a  vast  labyrinth 
with  marble  fountains  and  a  grotto  adorned  with  niches 
and  mosaics  in  the  style  of  Raphael's  Loggie.  Winding 
paths,  shaded  by  pergolas  of  vines  and  roses,  led  to  the 
top  of  the  hill,  where  a  small  piazza  commanded  a 
superb  prospect  over  the  city,  while  at  its  base  was  a 
lake  with  rose  hedges  rising  in  tiers  from  the  water,  and 
woods  peopled  with  gold  and  silver  pheasants.1 

These  villas  were  the  scene  of  many  sumptuous 
banquets  and  spectacles  in  the  reign  of  the  pleasure- 
1  M.  A.  Guarini,  op.  tit.,  p.  296. 

44 


GARDENS  OF  ESTE  AND  GONZAGA  PRINCES 

loving  Duke  Alfonso  the  Second.  On  one  occasion 
a  masque  with  musical  interludes  called  //  Temfio  dj 
Amore  was  performed  by  a  hundred  gentlemen  of  the 
Court  in  the  Castello  Gardens ;  on  another,  the  ducal 
family  and  a  chosen  company  of  their  friends  sat 
down  to  a  banquet  under  an  arbour  of  apple  and  pear, 
orange  and  lemon  trees,  laden  with  ripe  fruit,  and 
witnessed  a  performance  of  Tasso's  Aminta  in  the  sylvan 
glades  opposite,  as  they  sat  at  table.1  But  the  most 
memorable  festd  was  that  given  in  honour  of  the  French 
monarch,  Henri  III,  on  his  return  from  Poland  in  1574. 
A  masque  called  L'Isola  Eeata  was  to  be  represented  at 
the  Montagna  one  summer  evening,  and  preparations 
were  made  on  a  vast  scale.  Thousands  of  torches 
illuminated  the  scene,  a  mimic  siege  and  battle  on  the 
lake  were  to  be  represented  before  the  Court.  All  was 
ready  for  the  fray,  when  suddenly  the  wooden  walls  of 
the  sham  castle  caught  fire  and  fell  in  with  a  crash, 
several  of  the  combatants  were  thrown  into  the  water 
and  drowned,  and  thzfesta,  which  was  to  have  been  so 
gay,  ended  in  death  and  disaster.  But  if  the  gardens 
of  Ferrara  and  the  festivites  at  the  ducal  Court  reached 
a  pitch  of  splendour  never  before  attained  under  Duke 
Alfonso  the  Second,  taxation  also  increased  in  an  equal 
measure,  and  the  Duke  boasted  that  he  had  doubled 
his  revenues  by  these  exactions.  The  childless  prince 
1  A.  Solerti,  Ferrara  e  la  corte  estense,  p.  97. 

45 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

went  to  his  grave  unwept,  and  Pope  Clement  the  Eighth, 
who  took  possession  of  his  duchy,  destroyed  the 
wonderful  palace  of  Belvedere  to  build  a  fortress,  in 
order  that  he  might  maintain  his  rule  over  Ferrara. 

The  poets  and  humanists  who  flourished  under  the 
shadow  of  the  house  of  Este  shared  their  patrons'  love 
of  gardens.  Guarino,  who  came  to  Ferrara  as  Leonello's 
tutor  in  1429,  and  taught  at  the  University  for  thirty 
years,  was  never  happier  than  when  he  could  escape 
from  the  lecture-room  to  his  villa  on  the  Adige.  Here 
he  cultivated  his  flowers  and  read  the  Georgics  in  the 
pasture  among  his  flocks,  while  his  energetic  wife, 
Taddea,  the  mother  of  twenty-three  children,  herself 
worked  in  the  fields.  Under  this  humble  roof  old 
friends  and  young  students  were  always  welcome,  and 
many  distinguished  scholars  came  to  share  the  great 
teacher's  frugal  meal  and  enjoy  what  he  called  his  "fave 
e  favole  " — "  beans  and  talk."  Angelo  Decembrio  tells 
us  how  the  chief  magistrate  Gualengo  would  invite 
Leonello  and  his  scholar  friends  to  taste  the  first  ripe 
figs  in  his  garden  and  decorate  his  library  with  white 
and  purple  iris  in  honour  of  their  visit.  And  we  think 
of  Matteo  Boiardo,  the  poet  of  the  Orlando  Innamorato^ 
spending  the  pleasant  May-time  in  the  meadows  and 
woods  along  the  Secchia,  composing  pastorals  in  imita- 
tion of  Virgil  and  addressing  love  songs  to  the  mistress 
whose  golden  tresses  kept  him  bound  to  these  rural 


GARDENS  OF  ESTE  AND  GONZAGA  PRINCES 

shades.  Ariosto,  we  learn  from  his  son  Virginio,  was 
very  fond  both  of  building  and  gardening,  but  since  he 
used  the  same  methods  that  he  did  in  writing  verses  and 
was  always  altering  his  home  and  digging  up  his  fruit 
trees  and  vegetables,  his  operations  seldom  met  with 
success. 

"  Never  would  he  leave  anything  which  he  planted 
more  than  three  months  in  the  same  place.  If  he 
sowed  seeds  or  planted  peach  stones,  he  returned  so 
often  to  see  if  they  were  sprouting  that  he  ended  by 
destroying  the  young  shoots.  And  because  he  had 
little  knowledge  of  plants,  he  often  mistook  other 
herbs  which  sprang  up  in  the  same  border  for  those 
which  he  had  sown,  and  watched  their  growth  daily 
until  it  was  impossible  to  have  any  doubt  on  the 
subject.  Once,  I  remember,  he  sowed  some  capers  and 
went  to  look  at  them  every  day,  and  was  filled  with 
joy  at  the  sight  of  his  fine  crop  of  plants.  But  in  the 
end  he  found  that  these  were  only  shoots  of  elder,  and 
that  not  one  of  the  capers  had  come  up." 

The  poet's  last  years  were  spent  in  a  little  house  in 
the  Via  Mirasole,  the  street  that  bears  his  name  to-day, 
with  the  Latin  inscription  over  the  door  describing  his 
home  as  "  small  but  fit  for  me,  and  hurtful  to  no  one, 
and  built  with  my  own  money."  This  modest  habi- 
tation has  outlived  the  splendours  of  Belfiore  and 
Belriguardo,  and  roses  and  carnations,  oleanders  and 
fruit  trees,  still  blossom  under  the  red  brick  walls  of 

47 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

the    garden    where    Ariosto    looked    in    vain    for    his 
capers. 

Meanwhile  the   Este  princesses  took  their  father's 
love    of    building    and    gardening    to    other    homes. 
Beatrice,   the  youngest   of  Duke    Ercole's  daughters, 
and    the    wife    of    Lodovico    Sforza,    flung    herself 
passionately    into    the    delights    of    her    new   life    at 
Milan.     During  a  few  short  years  her  joyous  laughter 
rang  through  the  halls  of  the  Rocchetta  and  woke  the 
echoes  of  the  Castello  gardens.     The  foremost  artists 
were    ready    to    carry    out    her    fancies    and    do    her 
pleasure.     Leonardo  designed  a  pavilion  with  a  round 
cupola  for  her  labyrinth ;   Bramante  made  an  elegant 
ponticella    from    her    rooms    to    the    garden    below. 
Beatrice's  name,  set  in  a  wreath  of  myrtle  and  laurel, 
may  still  be  seen  inscribed  on  the  walls  of  the   Sala 
Grande,  which  the  great  Florentine  transformed  into 
a  bower  of  foliage.     But  the  end  came  all  too  soon. 
One   night   the   walls  of  Beatrice's    own    garden    fell 
down  with  a  sudden  crash,  and  when  dawn  broke  the 
Court  and  city  learnt  that  the  young  Duchess  was  no 
more.     Her  husband,  the  proud  Moro,  whose  career 
ended  in  disaster  and  captivity,  was  noted  for  his  love 
of  flowers.     The  choicest  roses  were  sent  him,  with 
baskets  of  peaches  and  pears,  of  artichokes  and  apples, 
by  his  friends  at  Genoa  and  Pavia.     He  adorned  the 
palace   at    his    birthplace    of  Vigevano   with   hanging 


GARDENS  OF  ESTE  AND  GONZAGA  PRINCES 

gardens,  and  spared  no  pains  or  expense  to  beautify 
the  grounds  of  the  Castello  of  Milan,  which  in  his 
reign  was  as  much  as  three  miles  in  extent.  One 
thing  which  he  especially  admired,  both  at  Mantua 
and  at  Ferrara,  were  the  swans  which  sailed  in  the 
castle  moat,  and  at  his  request  the  Marquis  of  Mantua 
sent  some  of  these  handsome  birds  to  adorn  the 
trenches  under  the  bastions  at  Milan. 

When,  in  the  agony  of  his  grief  after  Beatrice's 
death,  he  lavished  gifts  on  the  friars  of  Santa  Maria 
della  Grazie,  in  whose  church  she  was  buried,  one  of 
his  first  thoughts  was  to  enlarge  and  beautify  the 
convent  garden.  Long  afterwards  the  lively  Dominican 
friar,  Matteo  Bandello,  relates  how,  sitting  under  the 
long  pergola  in  this  same  convent  garden,  he  and 
Jacopo  Antiquario,  the  Moro's  old  secretary,  recalled 
the  great  acts  and  noble  intentions  of  Duke  Lodovico 
and  lamented  his  miserable  end.  To-day  the  Castello 
of  Pavia  is  a  barrack,  and  not  a  trace  remains  of  the 
Moro's  once  splendid  gardens  at  Vigevano  and  Milan, 
but  the  famous  Certosa,  which  he  helped  to  build  and 
justly  called  the  finest  jewel  of  his  crown,  is  still 
standing  in  its  vast  grounds.  Here  we  may  see  the 
spacious  fruit  and  vegetable  garden,  with  its  clumps 
of  ancient  cypress  trees  and  leafy  pergola  supported 
by  stone  pillars ;  here,  close  under  the  domes  and 
pinnacles  of  the  stately  church,  crimson  roses  bloom 

49  D 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

and  a  fountain  sends  up  its  sparkling  waters  in  the 
little  cloister  with  its  slender  marble  columns  and 
graceful  terra-cotta  mouldings.  Without  is  the  great 
cloister  surrounded  by  the  monks1  cells,  each  one 
provided  with  a  charming  little  garden  and  a  loggia 
for  use  in  wet  weather. 

Another  of  the  Moro's  works  which  survived  his 
downfall  were  the  gardens  along  the  Naviglio  Grande, 
the  favourite  waterway  between  Abbiategrasso  and 
Milan,  by  which  ambassadors  and  courtiers  were 
constantly  travelling  to  and  fro.  The  beauty  of  these 
blossoming  gardens  excited  the  admiration  of  the 
French  King's  Benedictine  chronicler,  Jean  d'Auton, 
when  he  accompanied  Louis  the  Twelfth  on  his 
conquering  march  to  Milan. 

"  On  either  side  of  the  canal,"  he  writes,  "  are  great 
leafy  guelder  rose  bushes  and  beautiful  green  meadows, 
planted  with  orchards  and  watered  by  running  brooks. 
And  all  along  the  water's  edge  you  see  villas  and 
pleasure-houses,  connected  with  each  other  by  draw- 
bridges thrown  across  the  stream ;  and  I  was  told  that 
Signor  Lodovico  had  been  pleased  to  lay  out  this 
district,  which  is  indeed  so  pleasant  and  delicious  that 
it  is  more  like  Paradise  than  this  earth."  1 

To  this  day  several  of  these  gardens  along  the  old 
Lombard  canals  remain.  One  especially  there  is  on 
the  banks  of  the  Martesana  Naviglio,  near  Monza, 

1  Chroniques,  ii.  187. 


GARDENS  OF  ESTE  AND  GONZAGA  PRINCES 

which  fortunately  still  belongs  to  direct  descendants 
of  the  ducal  line  of  Visconti.  The  villa  is  a  noble 
structure  built  by  Ruggieri  in  the  first  years  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  the  terraced  gardens  with  their 
pleached  alleys  and  bright  parterres,  *  their  fishponds, 
arbours,  and  finely  wrought  iron  gates,  take  us  back 
to  still  earlier  days,  when  the  Sforza  reigned  in  Milan 
and  Leonardo  the  Florentine  was  the  Duke's  chief 
engineer. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  sixteenth  century,  during 
the  troubled  reign  of  Beatrice's  sons,  Maximilian  and 
Francesco  the  Second,  the  gardens  of  Milan  became 
famous  as  the  meeting-place  of  many  of  those  literary 
celebrities  whose  names  live  in  Bandello's  novels.  The 
witty  friar  waxes  elocjuent  in  his  description  of  Ippolita 
Sforza  and  Scipio  Atellano's  gardens,  where  the  rival 
stars,  Camilla  Scarampi  and  Cecilia  Gallerani,  the 
Sappho  of  her  day,  recited  their  poems  in  the  cool 
shade  of  a  green  pergola,  and  Lancinus  Curtius  and 
Antonio  Fregoso  discussed  classical  texts  by  the 
fountain  side.  Sometimes,  as  Bandello  was  telling  one 
of  his  merry  tales,  the  tramp  of  horses'  feet  would  be 
heard  in  the  street,  a  chariot  decorated  with  the  finest 
gold  and  inlaid  work,  drawn  by  four  splendid  chargers 
in  rich  trappings,  would  appear  at  the  palace  doors, 
and  cavaliers  and  ladies  would  hasten  with  joyful 
acclamations  to  greet  the  gracious  lady  who  honoured 

51 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

them  with  her  presence.  For  this  radiant  apparition 
was  none  other  than  Isabella,  the  Marchioness  of 
Mantua,  sister  of  the  lamented  Duchess  Beatrice,  who 
had  paused  on  the  way  to  Monferrato  to  visit  her 
Milanese  kinsfolk. 

Throughout  her  long  life  this  typical  lady  of  the 
Renaissance  never  faltered  in  the  ardent  pursuit  of 
beauty,  alike  in  art  and  nature.  A  prey  to  what 
Count  Baldassare  laughingly  called  "  the  cursed  love 
of  vagabondage"  which  flowed  in  the  blood  of  the 
Este  princes,  Isabella's  insatiable  curiosity  to  see  and 
hear  new  things  prompted  her  to  undertake  frequent 
excursions  in  all  parts  of  Italy.  One  of  her  first 
expeditions  was  to  the  Lake  of  Garda,  where  this  bride 
of  fifteen  summers  spent  some  delightful  days  with  her 
sister-in-law,  the  charming  Duchess  of  Urbino.  To- 
gether they  visited  the  gardens  of  Desenzano  and  the 
Roman  ruins  of  Sermione — beloved  of  Catullus — and 
crossed  the  blue  waters  to  the  enchanting  Riviera  di 
Salo  on  the  other  shore.  Everywhere  the  young 
princesses  met  with  the  warmest  reception ;  the  priest 
of  Toscolano  made  them  a  feast  of  the  most  delicate 
fish  on  the  shores  of  the  lake,  and  the  owners  of  the 
gardens  stripped  their  trees  bare  and  loaded  Isabella's 
ladies  with  oranges  and  lemons.  In  after  years  the 
Marchesa  frequently  returned  to  the  shores  of  the  lake, 
each  time  with  fresh  delight  in  the  beauty  of  the 

52 


GARDENS  OF  ESTE  AND  GONZAGA  PRINCES 

prospect  and  the  luxuriant  vegetation  of  this  lovely 
region.  On  one  memorable  visit  which  she  paid  to 
Salo  in  1513  she  was  the  object  of  a  popular  ovation 
on  the  part  of  the  natives,  who  poured  out  in  boats  to 
meet  her  barge  and  brought  her  presents  of  fish  and 
fruit,  and,  what  pleased  her  less,  tedious  addresses  to 
which  she  was  compelled  to  listen.  And  it  was  on 
Lady  Day,  while  she  lingered  in  the  lemon  groves, 
that  she  received  the  Symposium  which  her  learned 
friend,  the  Vicentine  humanist  Trissino,  had  composed 
in  her  honour,  a  present,  as  she  wrote  to  the  donor, 
altogether  appropriate  to  this  divine  Riviera,  where  she 
felt  free  to  devote  herself  wholly  to  poetry  and 
meditation. 

The  sight  of  the  palace  gardens  at  Gubbio  and 
Urbino  moved  Isabella  to  make  improvements  in  the 
ancient  Castello  of  the  Gonzagas  at  Mantua.  Here, 
on  the  ground  floor  of  the  grim  old  building,  she  had 
her  famous  Grotta — an  open  court  paved  with  majolica 
tiles  bearing  Gonzaga  devices  and  surrounded  with 
elegant  columns  and  niches  containing  busts  and 
statues.  Her  idea  was  to  make  this  a  place  of  retreat, 
where,  surrounded  by  beautiful  paintings  and  marbles, 
she  could  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  solitude  or  the 
company  of  a  few  kindred  spirits,  and  with  this  end 
in  view  she  was  never  weary  of  importuning  her  friends 
to  get  her  "  some  beautiful  thing  for  the  Grotta ! " 

53 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

On  one  side  it  opened  into  the  studio  adorned  with 
the  works  of  Mantegna  and  Costa,  of  Perugino  and 
Correggio,  and  the  priceless  antiques  which  she  had 
been  at  infinite  pains  to  collect  from  the  ruins  of 
Rome  or  the  isles  of  the  Archipelago.  On  the  other 
it  led  into  a  little  garden  full  of  the  choicest  fruits 
and  the  sweetest  flowers,  of  the  trees  and  plants  that 
she  loved  best.  Often  during  her  absence  from 
Mantua  the  Marchesana's  thoughts  turned  to  this 
little  corner  of  the  world  which  in  a  peculiar  way  bore 
the  stamp  of  her  individuality,  and  she  begged  her 
friends  at  home  for  the  latest  report  of  this  favourite 
garden. 

"I  have  been  to  your  palace,"  wrote  a  favoured  gentle- 
man of  her  suite  one  May-day  when  the  Marchesana 
was  in  Rome,  "  and  I  have  seen  your  little  garden  which 
is  so  green  and  beautiful  that  it  might  be  Paradise 
itself;  the  little  apple  trees  are  already  laden  with 
large  fruit,  my  friends  the  figs  are  ripening  fast,  the 
jessamines  are  climbing  heavenwards,  and  everything 
invites  to  joy  and  calls  on  you  to  return  home.  That 
divine  Grotta  would  give  light  and  glory  to  hell 
itself."1 

Here,    too,    in    the   brightest    corner    of   the    little 

garden,  was  the  beautiful  loggia  where  Isabella  invited 

Castiglione  to  sup  with  her  on  his  return  from  Rome, 

and  for  which  this  loyal  knight  sighed  in  the  burning 

1  A.  Luzio  in  Arch.  si.  lomb.  xxxv.  19. 

54 


GARDENS  OF  ESTE  AND  GONZAGA  PRINCES 

heats  of  August.  "  The  loggia  expects  you  eagerly," 
replied  the  gracious  Marchesana,  "  and  will  make  you 
the  more  welcome  for  the  fine  praises  which  you  have 
bestowed  upon  it." 

Even  dearer  to  Isabella's  heart  in  her  later  years  was 
Porto,  the  summer  palace  half  a  mile  from  Mantua  on 
the  edge  of  the  Lago  Superiore,  just  where  the  Mincio 
flows  into  the  lake  whose  waters  sleep  under  the  Cas- 
tello  walls.  Soon  after  her  marriage  the  Marquis  had 
given  this  villa  to  his  wife,  and  Isabella  devoted  all  her 
savings  to  the  embellishment  of  the  house  and  gardens. 
She  employed  the  architect  Biagio  Rossetti  to  build  a 
garden-house  on  the  pattern  of  her  mother's  casino  at 
Ferrara,  and  made  Cristoforo  Solari  design  a  magnifi- 
cent fountain  for  the  terrace.  This  Lombard  sculptor, 
who  carved  the  beautiful  effigies  of  Lodovico  Sforza 
and  Beatrice  at  the  Certosa,  promised  to  execute  the 
marble  reliefs  and  statues  for  the  work  with  his  own 
hand,  but,  after  the  wont  of  great  masters,  he  delayed 
completing  his  task  from  year  to  year,  until  he  died  of 
the  plague,  leaving  the  Marchesa's  fountain  to  be  finished 
by  other  hands. 

Isabella  spent  most  of  the  summer  months  in  this 
charming  spot,  where  she  loved  to  escape  from  the 
ceremonial  duties  and  cares  of  the  Court  and  lead  the 
simple  life  after  her  own  fashion.  Here  she  and 
Elisabetta  Gonzaga  came  for  change  of  air  and  rest 

55 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

after  the  fatigues  of  Lucrezia  Borgia's  wedding,  with 
only  two  or  three  ladies,  "  the  cooks  and  the  carvers," 
and  the  baby-boy  Federico,  without  whom  his  mother 
declared  she  could  not  be  happy.  Here  they  were  en- 
joying each  other's  society  and  the  gardens  of  Porto  in 
all  the  beauty  of  June,  when  the  news  of  Caesar  Borgia's 
sudden  invasion  of  Urbino  reached  Mantua,  and  after 
a  few  days  of  terrible  suspense  Duke  Guidobaldo  him- 
self arrived,  having  ridden  day  and  night  before  his 
pursuers  and  "  only  saved  his  shirt  and  doublet."  Here 
Isabella  came  after  her  return  from  the  Court  of  Leo 
the  Tenth  in  1515,  feeling  that  it  was  easier  to  think 
of  the  delights  of  Rome  and  the  friends  whom  she  had 
left  behind  in  these  solitary  shades  than  in  the  little 
rooms  and  dull  society  of  Mantua.  In  those  days  the 
Marchesana's  gardens  at  Porto  became  one  of  the  sights 
of  Italy  and  attracted  illustrious  strangers  from  all 
parts.  "  I  sing  the  praises  of  the  delicious  gardens  of 
Porto,"  wrote  the  Venetian  priest,  Niccolo  Liburnio, 
in  a  pastoral  idyll  dedicated  to  Isabella,  "  the  charm  of 
their  perpetual  verdure  and  running  waters,  of  their 
abundant  fruit  and  fragrant  flowers." 

Cardinals  and  foreign  ambassadors,  Giuliano  de' 
Medici  and  the  "Bel  Bernardo"  Bibbiena,  the  Viceroy 
Cardona  and  the  legate  Chiericati,  Bembo  and  Trissino, 
were  among  the  guests  whom  Isabella  welcomed  at  her 
villa.  Another  distinguished  scholar,  the  saintly  Fra 

56 


GARDENS  OF  ESTE  AND  GONZAGA  PRINCES 

Francesco  of  Ferrara,  who  afterwards  became  general 
of  the  Dominican  Order,  the  biographer  of  the  Beata 
Osanna  and  author  of  a  famous  commentary  on  the 
Summa,  visited  Porto  in  the  Marchesana's  absence,  and 
expressed  his  admiration  for  the  beautiful  country  house 
in  a  letter  of  thanks  to  Isabella. 

"  This  palace  and  gardens  are  indeed  most  charming, 
and  seem  to  me  to  have  been  laid  out  with  the  greatest 
skill  by  Your  Highness.  Only  the  bitterness  of  my  own 
thoughts  prevents  me  from  fully  enjoying  these  rare 
delights.  Another  time,  when  I  am  in  a  happier  state 
of  mind,  I  shall  hope  to  return  here  and  look  with 
greater  attention  at  this  house  with  its  gardens  and 
lovely  surroundings."  1 

And  he  goes  on  to  explain  that  sorely  against  his  wish 
he  has  been  appointed  Prior  at  Ferrara,  and  that  instead 
of  returning  to  his  favourite  studies  at  Milan  he  will  be 
compelled  to  undertake  the  management  of  friars,  an 
office  which  he  disliked  above  all  else. 

A  Dominican  of  a  very  different  type,  Fra  Matteo 
Bandello,  was  a  constant  visitor  at  Porto,  and  has  left 
us  many  charming  descriptions  of  its  gardens  and  of 
the  excellent  company  which  he  found  there. 

"  It  was  my  habit,"  he  writes,  "  during  the  summer 
months  which  I  spent  at  Mantua  to  go  two  or  three 

1  Luzio  and  Renier,  Giornale  st.  d.  lett.  1900. 

57 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

times  a  week  to  pay  my  respects  to  Madama  Isabella 
d'Este,  Marchesa  di  Mantova,  in  her  most  delightful 
palace  of  Porto,  and  spend  the  whole  day  discussing 
different  subjects  with  her  lords  and  ladies,  sometimes 
in  the  presence  of  Her  Excellency,  sometimes  among 
ourselves."  1 

As  they  sat  in  the  cool  marble  halls  looking  out  on  the 
crystalline  waters,  "Madama  Illustrissima"  would  desire 
Bandello  to  read  some  tale  from  Livy  aloud  to  the 
company.  This  would  give  rise  to  animated  discus- 
sions over  the  action  of  the  Roman  matron  Lucrezia  or 
some  similar  incident,  and  while  the  secretaries,  Mario 
Equicola  and  Capilupi,  were  still  arguing  the  question, 
perhaps  a  new  personage  would  appear  on  the  scene  in 
the  shape  of  the  "  noble,  gentle,  and  learned  knight," 
Baldassare  Castiglione,  and  Madama  would  invoke  his 
authority  to  settle  the  dispute.  On  sultry  afternoons, 
when  the  heat  was  oppressive  and  not  a  breath  stirred 
the  leaves,  Madama  and  her  ladies  were  in  the  habit  of 
retiring  to  their  rooms  on  the  upper  floor  for  a  brief 
siesta,  and  Pirro  Gonzaga  or  Bandello  himself  would 
lead  the  way  to  the  grove  of  poplars  which  Isabella  had 
planted  in  memory  of  her  father,  Ercole,  a  few  months 
after  his  death.  Here,  sitting  on  the  fine  smooth  turf 
by  the  running  stream,  they  would  tell  merry  tales  of 
Archdeacon  Gabbioneta,  the  laughing-stock  of  all  the 
1  Novelley  i.  125. 

58 


GARDENS  OF  ESTE  AND  GONZAGA  PRINCES 

wits  at  Court,  or  repeat  the  last  gossip  which  had  come 
from  Milan  and  Ferrara,  until  the  barking  of  Madama's 
little  dogs  announced  her  return.  Then  the  company 
would  stroll  slowly  under  the  shady  avenues  by  the 
lakeside,  talking  of  what  pleased  them  best,  or  sitting 
in  groups  on  the  grass  amuse  themselves  with  reading, 
music,  and  singing,  or  other  pastimes.  And  whenever 
anything  especially  noteworthy  or  amusing  was  said, 
Madama  would  turn  to  Fra  Matteo  and  bid  him  write 
this  down  in  his  notebook. 

Many  fine  talkers  there  were  in  these  circles,  as 
Bandello  tells  us,  eloquent  courtiers  like  Count  Bal- 
dassare  and  merry  souls  such  as  young  Alessandro 
Gonzaga  and  the  Marchesa's  chamberlain  Baesso,  who 
always  had  some  pleasant  jest  on  his  lips.  Scholars 
and  travellers  of  repute  often  found  their  way  to 
Porto  and  were  always  sure  of  a  cordial  reception. 
The  courtier  who  brought  the  latest  news  of  the 
Vatican  intrigues  from  Rome,  the  nuncio  who  had 
visited  the  Court  of  Whitehall  and  the  wilds  of 
Ireland,  the  Vicentine  sailor  who  had  been  round 
the  world  with  Magellan  and  seen  olive-skinned 
Indians,  gold  ingots,  and  birds  of  paradise,  were 
all  eagerly  welcomed  by  this  brilliant  lady,  who, 
in  her  own  words,  was  always  eager  to  hear  any  new 
thing. 

Isabella  herself  took  a  practical  interest  in  garden- 

59 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

ing,  and  showed  her  skill,  not  only  in  laying  out  the 
grounds  at  Porto  but  in  the  cultivation  of  rare  plants 
and  exotic  trees.  She  sent  her  head  gardener  fre- 
quently to  Murano  to  visit  the  gardens  of  her  friends, 
Andrea  Navagero  and  Trifone  Gabriele,  and  occasion- 
ally, as  a  great  favour,  allowed  him  to  give  advice  to 
others.  When  the  distinguished  humanist,  Gian- 
giorgio  Trissino,  built  a  villa  at  Cricoli,  near  Vicenza, 
and  laid  out  a  formal  garden  in  front  of  his  palace, 
he  begged  the  Marchesa  to  take  pity  on  his  ignorance 
and  allow  her  gardener  to  show  him  the  best  way  of 
trimming  box  trees. 

"  I  am  just  now  living  at  Cricoli,"  he  wrote  to  her 
in  April  1537,  "  at  a  little  place  of  mine  not  further 
from  Vicenza  than  Porto  is  from  Mantua,  and  have 
had  a  garden  planted  with  various  kinds  of  trees, 
among  others  some  box  trees,  which  were  arranged  in 
symmetrical  order,  but  which,  owing  to  the  neglect 
or  ignorance  of  my  gardeners,  have  been  allowed  to 
run  wild.  And  since  I  know  that  Your  Excellency's 
gardener  at  Porto  is  an  expert  in  these  matters,  I 
venture  to  ask  very  humbly  if  you  will  give  him 
leave  to  come  here  for  a  few  days  and  see  my  garden, 
and  show  me  how  the  box  trees  should  be  trimmed, 
and  whatever  else  my  garden  requires.  So  I  am 
sending  my  servant  to  beg  Your  Excellency  with  all 
humility  if  it  be  possible  to  allow  your  gardener  to 
come  back  with  him  for  two  days,  and  shall  remain 
eternally  obliged  for  this  favour,  and  count  it  chief 

60 


GARDENS  OF  ESTE  AND  GONZAGA  PRINCES 

among    many     others    which    I    have    received    from 
you." 

Isabella  was  graciously  pleased  to  accede  to  this 
urgent  request  and  allowed  her  gardener  to  visit 
Cricoli,  but  took  care  to  add  that  she  hoped  he 
would  send  back  the  man  as  soon  as  possible,  since 
the  garden  at  Porto  was  in  great  want  of  his  services. 
A  week  later  Trissino  sent  a  grateful  letter  saying 
that  "  the  gardener's  arrival  had  been  most  oppor- 
tune in  this  rainy  weather,"  and  that  his  advice  had 
proved  exceedingly  profitable  to  the  box  trees  of  his 
garden,  which  were  now  in  perfect  order,  for  all 
of  which  he  rendered  her  Excellency  immortal 
thanks. 

"  And  now,"  he  adds,  "  I  am  sending  the  gardener 
back  in  order  that  Porto  may  not  suffer  by  his 
absence."  l 

To  the  last  Isabella  retained  her  keen  sense  of 
enjoyment  and  pleasure  in  planning  buildings  and 
gardens.  She  helped  Giulio  Romano  with  her  advice 
in  preparing  the  Palazzina,  an  elegant  suite  of  rooms 
which  was  added  to  the  Castello  at  the  time  of  her 
son  Federico's  wedding,  and  expressed  the  highest 
approval  of  the  terraced  garden  and  loggietta  on  the 
top  of  the  roof,  saying  that  she  should  have  thought 
herself  very  fortunate  if,  when  she  first  came  to 
1  B.  Morsolin,  Giangiorgio  Trissino,  p.  493. 

61 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Mantua,  such  a  home  had  been  prepared  for  her.1 
In  1535  she  visited  the  shores  of  the  Lake  of  Garda 
once  more  and  revelled  in  the  beauties  of  the  gardens 
at  Sermione  and  Salo  as  fully  as  when  she  had  first 
seen  them  five-and-forty  years  before. 

All  through  Isabella's  life  the  foremost  masters  of 
the  age  were  ready  to  do  her  bidding.  Raphael 
painted  a  Madonna  for  her  Grotta  and  designed  a 
tomb  for  her  lord.  Leonardo  once  sent  her  a  sketch 
of  a  Florentine  villa  and  garden  which  the  Marquis 
had  admired,  but  remarked  that  in  order  to  make 
the  thing  perfect  it  would  be  necessary  to  bring  the 
site  of  the  house  to  Mantua.  He  excused  himself 
for  not  colouring  the  ivy,  box,  and  other  evergreens 
of  the  garden,  but  offered  to  send  her  a  painting  and 
a  model  of  the  villa,  a  thing  which  we  may  be  quite 
sure  he  never  did.  Many  years  afterwards,  when 
Castiglione  returned  to  Mantua  on  his  way  to  Spain, 
he  brought  with  him  from  Rome  the  plan  of  a 
beautiful  garden  and  habitation  designed  by  Michel- 
angelo. Great  was  the  excitement  at  Court  when  the 
model  was  set  up  before  Madama.  Courtiers  and 
ladies  alike  were  loud  in  praises  of  the  ingenuity  of 
the  plans,  and  her  son,  the  Duke,  declared  that  he 
would  certainly  build  a  palace  from  these  admirable 
designs.  But  money,  as  usual,  was  scarce  at  Mantua. 

1  S.  Davari,  Arch.  st.  Lombardo,  1895. 
62 


GARDENS  OF  ESTE  AND  GONZAGA  PRINCES 

The  new  theatre  at  Marmirolo  had  cost  some  20,000 
ducats,  and  Giulio  Romano  was  already  beginning 
his  sumptuous  palace  on  the  marshy  grounds  of  the 
Te.  So  Michelangelo's  designs  were  put  aside  and 
forgotten.  Fortunately  they  fell  into  the  hands  of 
some  of  his  friends  at  Florence,  and  long  afterwards, 
when  Agostino  Dini  built  himself  a  villa,  they  were 
brought  to  light.  The  Dini  family  had  been  intimate 
with  Michelangelo  himself,  and  Santi  di  Tito,  the 
architect  whom  Agostino  employed,  was  a  pupil  of 
Bandinelli  and,  like  all  his  contemporaries,  held  the 
great  man's  memory  in  the  highest  honour.  The 
house  which  he  reared  for  Dini  on  the  hills  beyond 
the  Certosa  di  Val  d'Ema  has  always  been  traditionally 
ascribed  to  Michelangelo,  and  its  noble  and  austere 
simplicity  bears  the  stamp  of  the  master's  genius. 
It  stands  on  the  top  of  a  lofty  ridge  looking  towards 
Pistoia  and  the  distant  Apennines.  On  either  side 
long  cypress  avenues  lead  up  to  a  terrace  from  which 
a  majestic  double  flight  of  steps  flanked  with  lions 
ascends  to  a  paved  courtyard.  The  south  front  of 
the  villa,  consisting  of  a  two-storied  arcade  of  slender 
columns,  supporting  a  roof  with  projecting  eaves,  is 
built  round  three  sides  of  this  court.  At  the  back 
is  a  stately  loggia  and  another  double  stairway  leading 
down  to  a  sunny  parterre,  with  orange  and  lemon  trees 
in  terra-cotta  pots,  low  box  hedges,  and  an  ilex  grove 

63 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

beyond.  The  lines  are  simple  and  severe,  the  aspect 
singularly  imposing,  and  the  whole,  we  feel,  is  worthy 
of  the  man  to  whom  the  original  design  has  been 
ascribed  and  whose  model  Count  Baldassare  brought 
to  Mantua  for  Isabella  d'Este. 


THE   GARDENS     OF    PAPAL   ROME 

"  Dimmi  ch'io  potro  aver  ozio  talora 
Di  riveder  le  Muse,  e  con  lor,  sotto 
Le  sacre  frondi  ir  poetando  ancora  .  .  . 
Pei  Sette  Colli."  ARIOSTO. 

IMPERIAL  Rome,  we  are  often  told,  was  a  city  of 
gardens.  The  sumptuous  pleasure-grounds  of  the 
Emperors  and  the  gardens  of  wealthy  patricians,  such 
as  Lucullus  and  Sallust,  extended  over  a  large  portion 
of  the  Seven  Hills.  On  the  terraced  slopes  at  the 
foot  of  the  Janiculum  were  the  public  gardens  be- 
queathed by  Julius  Caesar  to  the  people ;  on  the 
opposite  heights  of  the  Esquiline  was  the  villa  of 
Maecenas,  where  Horace  and  his  friends  enjoyed  the 
hospitality  of  their  august  patron.  Even  the  Suburra 
was  not  without  flowers,  and  Pliny  speaks  of  the 
window-gardens  of  the  poorer  citizens.  The  sites  of 
these  old  gardens  and  the  names  of  their  owners  still 
lingered  in  the  mind  of  the  mediaeval  Roman,  from 
whose  memory  the  vision  of  ancient  Rome  and  its 
departed  splendours  had  never  wholly  faded.  But 
the  revival  of  gardening  that  formed  so  marked  a 
feature  of  the  Renaissance  did  not  reach  Papal 

Rome  until  the  first  years  of  the  sixteenth   century. 

65  E 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

As  Tuscan  architects  and  painters  built  the  chapels  of 
Nicholas  the  Fifth  and  Sixtus  the  Fourth,  and  decorated 
their  walls  with  frescoes,  so  the  Vatican  garden  was 
first  of  all  laid  out,  not  by  a  Roman  citizen,  but  by 
Bramante  of  Urbino. 

The  great  man  who  transformed  Italian  architecture 
in  the  sixteenth  century  was  a  native  of  that  little 
duchy  in  the  heart  of  the  Apennines,  where  art  and 
letters  flourished  under  the  paternal  rule  of  the  best  of 
princes,  and  the  finest  spirits  of  the  age  met  at  the 
court  of  the  Montefeltro  Dukes.  Born  in  1444  at 
a  farm  two  miles  from  Urbino,  young  Bramante  saw 
with  his  own  eyes  the  building  of  Laurana's  wonderful 
palace,  and,  there  can  be  little  doubt,  was  himself  a 
pupil  of  the  Istrian  architect.  At  thirty  he  went  to 
Milan,  where  he  entered  the  service  of  the  Sforza 
Dukes  and  became  the  favourite  architect  of  that 
enlightened  prince,  Lodovico  il  Moro,  "  the  master  of 
those  who  know."  For  the  next  five-and-twenty 
years  he  lived  at  this  brilliant  court  in  close  companion- 
ship with  Leonardo  and  Caradosso,  building  churches 
and  bridges,  superintending  works  in  the  provinces,  or 
rearing  graceful  colonnades  and  painting  frescoes  in 
the  Castello.  When  the  final  catastrophe  came  and 
"  the  Duke,"  in  Leonardo's  mournful  words,  "  lost 
state,  fortune,  and  liberty  "  at  one  blow,  Bramante  was 

compelled  to  leave  his  buildings  unfinished  and  seek 

66 


THE  GARDENS  OF  PAPAL  ROME 

his  fortunes  elsewhere.  Early  in  1500  he  found  his 
way  to  Rome,  where  he  devoted  the  next  few  years  to 
the  careful  study  of  classical  remains.  Soon  his 
talents  brought  him  into  notice  at  the  Papal  Court. 
He  was  engaged,  according  to  Bottari,  to  design  the 
fountains  on  the  Piazza  of  St.  Peter's,  and  in  1502 
built  the  famous  Tempietto  in  the  Franciscan  convent 
on  the  Janiculan  Hill  for  the  "  Catholic  kings," 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella  of  Spain.  The  erection  of 
this  beautiful  little  shrine,  which  shows  how  entirely 
Bramante  had  assimilated  the  principles  of  classical  art, 
marked  a  new  epoch  in  the  history  of  architecture  and 
ensured  the  Urbino  master's  recognition  as  the  most 
original  builder  of  the  age.  No  sooner  had  Julius  the 
Second  assumed  the  Papal  tiara  than  Bramante  was 
summoned  to  carry  out  the  new  Pope's  lofty  dreams 
and  ordered  to  rebuild  St.  Peter's  and  restore  the  old 
Vatican  palace.  Nothing  daunted  by  the  magnitude 
of  these  undertakings,  the  master,  who  was  already 
sixty  years  of  age,  threw  himself  with  ardour  into  his 
new  task.  On  the  one  hand,  he  laid  the  foundations 
of  the  new  Basilica,  while  on  the  other  he  prepared 
a  magnificent  design  for  the  transformation  of  the 
Vatican. 

Before  Bramante's  time  little  attention  had  been 
paid  to  the  treatment  of  gardens  on  architectural  lines, 
or  the  laying  out  of  vast  spaces  as  an  harmonious 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

setting  for  the  palace  or  villa.  But  the  student  of 
Vitruvius  and  Alberti,  the  friend  of  Leonardo  and 
Luca  Pacioli,  came  to  Rome  with  new  ideas  teeming 
in  his  brain.  He  remembered  the  Duchess's  garden  in 
the  court  of  the  great  palace  at  Urbino,  with  its 
stately  fountain,  well-ordered  walks,  and  glorious  view 
of  the  Apennines,  and  thought  of  Beatrice  d'Este's 
sunny  pleasaunce  under  the  loggia  of  the  Rocchetta, 
where  clear  waters  gleamed  among  the  flowers  and 
grassy  lawns.  Now  he  had  to  work  on  a  larger  scale 
and  lay  out  the  Vatican  precincts  in  a  manner  worthy 
of  the  Supreme  Pontiff. 

It  was  the  Pope's  wish  to  connect  his  own  rooms  in 
the  old  palace  with  the  Casino  of  the  Belvedere,  built 
by  Innocent  the  Eighth  on  a  spur  of  the  Vatican  hill, 
in  order  that  he  might  be  able  to  visit  his  collection 
of  precious  antiques,  without  exposure  to  weather. 
Accordingly  Bramante  designed  two  long  parallel 
galleries  or  loggie,  each  consisting  of  three  stories 
of  arcade,  to  bridge  over  the  valley  lying  between 
the  Vatican  and  the  rising  ground  on  which  the  villa 
stands.  One  loggia  looked  out  on  the  wooded  slopes 
of  the  hillside,  the  other  commanded  a  beautiful  view 
of  Rome  and  the  Campagna.  The  enclosure  between 
these  galleries  was  divided  into  two  portions.  The 
lower  court,  nearest  to  the  Vatican,  was  to  serve  as 

a  theatre  or  arena  for  jousts  and  pageants,  bull-fights 

68 


THE    GARDENS    OF   PAPAL    ROME 

or  comedies,  while  the  upper  half,  reaching  to  the 
villa  walls,  was  laid  out  as  a  garden  with  broad  flights 
of  steps,  wide  terraces,  and  avenues  of  cypress  and 
orange  trees.  A  superb  fountain,  adorned  with  the 
famous  Pigna  or  bronze  cone  which,  according  to 
an  old  tradition,  once  crowned  the  Mausoleum  of 
Hadrian  and  afterwards,  as  Dante  records,  stood  in  the 
Atrium  of  old  St.  Peter's,  was  placed  in  the  centre  of 
the  highest  terrace.  Immediately  behind  this  fountain, 
closing  in  the  view,  was  a  colossal  niche,  eighty  feet 
high,  roofed  over  with  a  semi-cupola  and  hemi-cycle 
of  pillars,  and  forming  an  imposing  fagade  to  the 
Belvedere.  At  the  same  time  Bramante  enlarged  and 
beautified  the  villa.  A  Cortile  or  inner  hall,  to 
contain  the  Pope's  antique  statues,  was  added,  as  well 
as  the  celebrated  spiral  staircase  with  tiers  of  Doric, 
Ionic,  and  Corinthian  pillars  rising  one  above  another. 
This  stairway  was  constructed  in  such  a  manner  that 
it  might  be  ascended  on  horseback,  and  caused  the 
Roman  wits  to  say  that  the  Pope's  architect  had  made 
a  new  road  to  heaven,  broad  and  easy  enough  for 
the  feeblest  souls  to  get  there. 

The  greatest  admiration  was  excited  by  Bramante's 
plans,  and  the  progress  of  the  work  was  hurried  on 
by  the  Pope  with  characteristic  impetuosity.  "  The 
design  of  this  fabric,"  wrote  Vasari,  "was  considered 
so  fine  that  nothing  equal  to  it  had  been  seen  in  Rome 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

since  ancient  times."  Unfortunately,  both  Julius  the 
Second  and  Bramante  died  before  the  Loggie  were 
completed,  and  the  grandeur  and  unity  of  the  Urbino 
master's  conception  was  destroyed  by  the  tasteless 
additions  of  future  Popes.  Before  the  end  of  the 
century  Sixtus  the  Fifth  walled  in  the  Loggie  and 
built  the  Library,  which  cut  the  great  Court  in  two, 
while  in  later  times  the  roofing  over  of  the  Belvedere 
Cortile  and  building  of  the  Braccio  Nuovo  completed 
the  ruin  of  what  was  once  the  finest  garden  in  the 
world. 

Many  and  varied  are  the  testimonies  that  we  have 
to  the  beauty  of  the  "  Prato  del  Belvedere  "  —the  Bellum 
Videri  Pratum,  as  the  Giardino  della  Pigna  was  called 
in  these  early  days.  In  1510,  when  both  Julius  the 
Second  and  Bramante  were  still  living,  the  Marquis  of 
Mantua's  son,  Federico  Gonzaga,  was  sent  to  Rome  as 
a  hostage  for  his  father's  good  behaviour  on  his  release 
from  captivity  at  Venice.  The  handsome  ten-year-old 
boy,  who  was  the  apple  of  his  mother  Isabella's  eyes, 
became  the  old  Pope's  pet  and  plaything  and  the 
spoiled  child  of  the  Cardinals,  who  sought  to  win  the 
Marchesa's  good  graces  by  this  easy  way  to  her  heart. 

"  His  Highness  is  lodged  in  the  finest  rooms  of  the 
palace,"  wrote  his  tutor  Stazio  Gadio,  "  and  takes  his 
meals  in  a  most  beautiful  loggia  looking  all  over  the 
Campagna,  which  is  justly  called  Belvedere.  He 

70 


THE   GARDENS   OF   PAPAL   ROME 

spends  the  whole  day  walking  about  these  delicious 
gardens  and  groves  of  pines  and  orange  trees,  which 
afford  him  the  greatest  possible  pleasure." 

The  Pope's  collection  of  antiques,  which  daily  received 
new  additions,  was  another  source  of  continual  delight, 
and  Federico  filled  his  letters  to  his  mother  with  glow- 
ing descriptions  of  the  Laocoon,  which  had  lately  been 
dug  up  in  the  Sette  Sale,  near  the  Baths  of  Titus,  and 
which  he  longed  to  send  home  to  Mantua.     Only  a 
year  after  the  discovery  of  the  Laocoon,  a  Roman  who 
was  digging  in   his  garden   in   the  Campo  de'  Fiori, 
found  a  life-size  image  of  Hercules  wearing  the  lion's 
skin,  with  a  club  in  one  arm  and  the  boy  Telephus  on 
the  other.     This  statue  was   taken  to  the  Belvedere 
the  same  day,  and  the  lucky  finder  was  rewarded  by 
the   Pope  with  a   benefice  worth    130  ducats  a  year. 
At  this  time  there  was  a  perfect  passion  for  antiques 
in  Rome,  and  the  keenest  competition  prevailed  among 
cardinals    and    princes    for    the    marbles    that   were 
brought  to  light.     Great  excitement  was  caused  when, 
one    day  in    January   1512,   some    masons   who  were 
building  a   house  near  the  Dominican  Church  of  S. 
Maria  sopra   Minerva    discovered    a   large   recumbent 
statue  of  the  river-god  Tiber,  with  the  wolf  suckling 
Romulus  and   Remus   at  his  side.      This  group  was 
also  secured   for  the  Pope  and   brought  to  the   Bel- 
1  A.  Luzio,  Federico  Ostaggio,  p.  9. 
71 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

vedere,  together  with  a  sleeping  Cleopatra,  afterwards 
more  correctly  named  Ariadne.  The  Laocoon,  the 
so-called  Venus  of  Cnidus,  and  the  famous  Apollo 
which  had  belonged  to  the  Pope  before  his  accession, 
were  placed  in  the  niches  of  Bramante's  Cortile,  and 
the  other  statues  and  sarcophagi  were  arranged  among 
the  orange  trees,  planted  at  intervals  and  watered  with 
running  streams. 

On  summer  evenings  the  Pope  often  supped  in  the 
cool  loggia  and  played  backgammon  with  Federico 
Gonzaga,  or  listened  to  music  and  recitations.  In  the 
days  of  Leo  the  Tenth  these  gardens  were  the  scene 
of  frequent  entertainments.  The  strains  of  viols  and 
flutes  were  heard  far  on  into  the  night,  while  his 
Holiness,  who  was  passionately  fond  of  music,  listened 
with  closed  eyes  and  head  thrown  back,  beating  time 
with  his  hand  and  singing  the  tune  under  his  breath. 

Bramante  and  the  goldsmith  Caradosso  both  had 
rooms  in  the  villa  in  the  time  of  Julius  the  Second. 
Later  on,  the  sculptor  Baccio  Bandinelli  lived  there, 
and  was  employed  by  Leo  the  Tenth  to  make  a  copy 
of  the  Laocoon  for  King  Francis,  who  had  boldly 
asked  his  Holiness  to  make  him  a  present  of  the 
original  marbles.  The  Florentine  master  never  forgot 
the  beauty  of  the  Belvedere  grounds ;  and  twenty  or 
thirty  years  afterwards,  when  he  was  making  a  fountain 

for  the  Grand  Duchess  Eleonora's  gardens  in  the  Pitti, 

72 


THE   GARDENS   OF   PAPAL   ROME 

he  wrote  to  the  Grand  Duke  Cosimo :  "  Some  day,  if 
it  please  your  Excellency,  I  will  show  you  the  designs 
which  Bramante  prepared  for  the  lawns  and  fountains 
of  Pope  Giulio's  gardens,  and  which  Raphael  of  Urbino 
afterwards  imitated  in  the  grounds  that  he  laid  out 
for  Popes  Leo  and  Clement.  In  these  same  Belvedere 
gardens  I  lived  for  many  years  myself."  And  the 
sculptor  proceeds  to  explain  how  those  great  examples 
have  taught  him  to  adapt  the  shape  and  ornament  of 
his  fountain  to  its  surroundings,  and  to  impress  upon 
Cosimo  the  desirability  of  preserving  the  grassy  mead 
in  front  of  his  palace — "  a  corner — it  seems  to  me — as 
full  of  natural  loveliness  as  any  place  on  earth." 

Here,  too,  by  Pope  Leo's  invitation,  that  noble  soul, 
Count  Baldassare  Castiglione,  took  up  his  abode  in  the 
summer  of  1521,  when  his  duties  as  Mantuan  am- 
bassador kept  him  at  the  Vatican.  In  the  sad  days, 
when  he  mourned  for  his  lost  Ippolita,  and  could 
hardly  believe  himself  to  be  in  Rome  now  that  his 
poor  Raphael  was  gone,  the  sorely  stricken  man  could 
find  no  better  comfort  than  the  peace  and  beauty  of 
these  shades.  Here,  as  he  wandered  at  will  among 
the  orange  groves  and  fountains,  he  could  feast  his 
eyes  on  those  wonders  of  antique  sculpture,  the 
Laocoon  which  inspired  his  friend  Sadoleto's  Muse 
and  the  Cleopatra  which  he  had  himself  celebrated 
1  Bottari,  Raccolte  di  Lettere^  p.  93. 

73 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

in  song.  Here  in  June  evenings  he  could  linger  on 
the  wide  balconies  under  Bramante's  arcades,  looking 
down  on  the  road  by  which  all  the  ambassadors  entered 
the  city,  or  watching  the  joyous  band  of  youths  and 
maidens  at  play  in  the  meadows  along  the  Tiber. 

"  I  am  living  here  in  the  Belvedere,"  he  wrote  to  his 
mother  at  Mantua.  "It  is  a  real  refreshment  to  my 
spirit.  Would  to  God  you  had  so  delightful  a  place 
to  live  in,  as  this  villa  with  its  beautiful  view  and 
delicious  gardens,  filled  with  all  these  noble  antiques, 
fountains,  basins,  and  running  water !  And  what  suits 
me  best  of  all,  I  am  close  to  the  Pope's  palace."  l 

But  the  best  and  fullest  description  that  we  have 
of  the  Belvedere  gardens  is  from  the  pen  of  Pietro 
Pesaro,  one  of  the  three  Venetian  envoys  who  were 
sent  to  congratulate  Pope  Adrian  the  Sixth  on  his 
election  in  the  spring  of  1523.  They  had  started  for 
Rome  in  the  previous  autumn,  but  had  been  compelled 
to  turn  back  again  at  Bologna  for  fear  of  the  plague, 
and  had  set  out  again  in  March,  travelling  by  the 
rougher  roads  and  staying  at  remote  country  inns  to 
avoid  infection.  But  the  cordial  reception  which  they 
met  with  atoned  for  all  these  privations.  One 
Venetian  Cardinal,  the  excellent  Patriarch  Grimani, 
gave  them  a  splendid  banquet  on  St.  Mark's  Day, 
when,  according  to  custom,  he  threw  open  his  palace 
1  Serassi,  Lettere^  \.  p,  76. 

74 


THE    GARDENS   OF   PAPAL    ROME 

doors  to  all  citizens  of  the  Republic.  Another 
member  of  the  Sacred  College,  Marco  Cornaro,  took 
them  out  hunting  in  the  Campagna  and  himself  led 
the  chase  clad  in  a  scarlet  coat  and  mounted  on  a 
white  horse  perfect  in  its  shape  and  paces.  The 
ambassadors  visited  all  the  chief  sights  in  Rome,  paid 
their  vows  at  the  altars  of  the  Seven  Churches,  and 
saw  Raphael  of  Urbino's  new-made  tomb  in  the  great 
Rotonda,  where  he  had  willed  to  lie.  They  were 
profoundly  impressed  by  the  vast  dimensions  of  the 
Coliseum  and  the  Thermae  and  the  immense  size  of 
the  new  fabric  of  St.  Peter's,  while  the  splendours  of 
the  Vatican  surpassed  their  highest  expectation.  The 
frescoes  in  the  Stanze  of  the  Papal  Chapel,  the  silken 
tapestries  and  profusion  of  gold  and  silver  plate,  the 
splendid-looking  Swiss  Guards  in  their  white,  green 
and  yellow  liveries,  filled  them  with  breathless  admira- 
tion. "  Surely,"  they  exclaimed,  "  no  other  monarch 
in  the  world  has  so  glorious  a  palace ! "  The  Holy 
Father  himself,  it  must  be  confessed,  disappointed 
them.  A  devout  and  learned  man  he  was,  beyond 
all  doubt,  and  well  disposed  towards  the  Signory  of 
Venice,  but  he  struck  them  as  timid  and  irresolute, 
and,  for  a  Pope,  very  miserly  in  his  habits  and 
expenditure.  The  change  from  the  days  of  Leo  was 
great.  The  Cardinals  who  made  their  home  in  the 
Vatican  had  been  sent  back  to  their  own  dioceses,  the 

75 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

poets  and  scholars  who  fed  at  the  Pope's  table  were 
dismissed.  Silence  reigned  in  the  vast  halls  where 
his  Holiness  lived  alone  with  two  dull  Flemish 
chamberlains  and  employed  an  old  peasant  woman 
to  cook  his  meals. 

When  the  ambassadors  asked  leave  to  see  the 
Belvedere,  they  were  kept  waiting  over  an  hour  while 
the  Pope  sent  for  the  keys  of  his  private  door,  by 
which  alone  access  to  the  villa  could  be  gained,  since 
he  had  ordered  the  other  eleven  entrances  to  be  closed. 
The  priceless  antiques  which  adorned  the  Cortile  were 
in  Adrian's  eyes  but  Pagan  idols,  which,  as  the 
Venetian  Negri  remarked,  he  would  gladly  have 
broken  up  and  ground  into  lime  for  use  in  the 
building  of  St.  Peter's.  But  when  once  admittance 
had  been  obtained,  the  ambassadors  were  lost  in 
wonder  and  delight.  They  walked  through  Bramante's 
colonnades  and  Raphael's  brilliantly  decorated  loggia, 
still  in  part  unfinished,  to  the  villa  and  looked  down 
on  the  churches  and  palaces  of  the  Eternal  City  with 
the  many-coloured  plains  of  the  Campagna  and  Alban 
Hills  beyond — "  a  place  indeed,"  they  exclaimed, 
"worthy  of  the  name  Belvedere"  Here  they  found 
themselves  in  the  fairest  garden  in  the  world,  laid  out 
with  grassy  lawns  and  groves  of  laurel,  cypress,  and 
mulberry  trees,  and  adorned  with  fountains  of  sparkling 
waters.  Then  they  passed  through  a  lofty  portico, 


THE   GARDENS   OF  PAPAL   ROME 

inscribed  with  the  motto  "  Procul  este  profani"  into 
an  inner  court  about  100  feet  square,  paved  with 
terra-cotta  tiles  and  planted  with  most  beautiful  orange 
trees.  Here  at  length  they  beheld  the  renowned 
statues.  In  the  centre  of  the  garden  were  the  colossal 
groups  of  the  river-gods  Nile  and  Tiber,  with 
fountains  sending  up  jets  of  water  on  either  side. 
Close  to  the  entrance  stood  the  Hercules,  with  the 
boy  in  his  arms ;  in  a  niche  to  the  left,  mounted  on 
a  massive  pedestal,  was  the  Apollo,  "  famous  in  the 
whole  world,"  a  life-size  figure  of  the  finest  marble, 
and  on  the  other  side  the  still  more  wonderful  group 
of  Laocoon,  "  a  work,"  they  exclaimed,  "  so  natural 
and  full  of  life  that  it  can  never,  surely,  be  surpassed 
in  the  whole  history  of  human  art."  "  Even  the 
exquisite  grace  of  the  Greek  Venus,"  continues  Pesaro  ; 
"  nay,  the  glory  of  the  celebrated  Apollo  itself,  are 
forgotten  in  the  presence  of  this  most  excellent 
work." x  So,  in  impassioned  words  that  fill  many 
pages  of  his  narrative,  the  Venetian  ambassador 
describes  the  wonders  of  the  Belvedere,  in  the  golden 
age  of  the  Renaissance. 

Bramante's  creation,  as  may  be  supposed,  gave  a 
marked  impulse  to  the  art  of  gardening  in  Rome. 
Everywhere  on  the  Seven  Hills  new  gardens  sprang 

1  E.  Alberi,  Relazioni  degli  ambasciatori  Veneti,  Serie  II,  vol.  iii. 
p.  116. 

77 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

up,  laid  out  on  architectural  lines,  with  broad  terraces 
and  flights  of  steps,  and  adorned  with  ancient  sarco- 
phaghi  and  statues,  with  frescoed  summer-houses  and 
fountains  of  bronze  and  marble.  Scholars  and  poets, 
merchants  and  princes,  vied  with  Cardinals  and  Papal 
officials  in  making  gardens — alike  in  the  heart  of  the 
city  and  in  its  immediate  neighbourhood.  Cardinal 
Grimani,  whose  house  at  the  foot  of  the  Capitol — 
now  the  Palazzo  Venezia — was  only  second  in  size 
and  splendour  to  the  Cancelleria,  had  a  lawn  of  the 
finest  and  greenest  grass  in  the  court  of  his  palace, 
with  a  fountain  in  the  centre,  surrounded  by  laurel 
and  orange  bowers  and  avenues  of  cypress,  "  a  thing," 
wrote  Pesaro,  "  truly  marvellous  to  behold."  Close 
by,  the  terraced  gardens  of  the  Colonna  Palace  stretched 
up  the  steep  slopes  of  the  Quirinal,  with  the  colossal 
fragment  of  the  Temple  of  the  Sun,  its  gigantic  pillars 
and  sculptured  cornice  towering  into  the  skies.  Here, 
in  the  summer  of  1526,  when  the  plague  was  raging 
in  Rome,  Isabella  d'Este  and  her  lively  maidens  spent 
the  hot  July  days  and  received  their  chosen  guests  "  in 
this  most  beautiful  garden,"  where  they  enjoyed  them- 
selves so  much  that  they  seldom  cared  to  drive  out 
in  the  chariot,  and,  as  the  Marchesa  told  her  son,  pre- 
ferred not  to  run  any  risks. 

On    the   site   of  the   gardens    of  Sallust,   near  the 
Acqua    Virgo,    were    the    "  Horti    Cohtiani"    where 

78 


THE   GARDENS  OF  PAPAL   ROME 

Angelo  Colocci,  the  head  of  the  Academy,  enter- 
tained the  flower  of  Roman  society  at  those  happy 
meetings  which  Sadoleto  recalled  with  tender  regret, 
after  the  sack  of  Rome  had  destroyed  the  beauties  of 
the  Eternal  City  and  scattered  all  his  friends.  Some- 
times the  same  pleasant  company  met  in  Blosio 
Palladio's  gardens  on  the  Tiber  banks,  or  in  the  house 
of  the  venerable  German  Bishop  Goritz,  near  Trajan's 
Forum.  Sometimes  they  climbed  the  Janiculum,  and 
were  entertained  by  Baldassare  Turini,  the  friend  and 
executor  of  Raphael,  in  a  villa  which  boasted  of  enjoy- 
ing the  finest  view  in  Rome.  Phaedrus  Inghirami, 
the  learned  librarian  of  the  Vatican,  whose  massive 
brow  and  squinting  eyes  are  familiar  to  us  in 'Raphael's 
portrait,  bought  a  country-house  on  the  Palatine  and 
adorned  its  halls  with  fragments  of  old  Roman  frescoes, 
while  Latino  Giovenale  Manetti,  another  member  of 
the  Urbino  circle,  set  the  fashion  of  decorating  his 
garden  walls  with  ancient  inscriptions  and  classical 
reliefs. 

More  famous  than  any  of  these  was  the  villa  of  the 
Sienese  banker,  Agostino  Chigi,  in  the  Lungara,  on 
the  right  bank  of  the  Tiber,  now  known  as  the 
Farnesina.  This  simple  two-storied  building  —  in 
Vasari's  words,  " Non  murato  ma  veramente  nato" — 
was  an  ideal  pleasure-house  for  a  merchant  prince  of 
Chigi's  type,  who  could  afford  to  indulge  his  fine  taste 

79 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

and  spend  his  leisure  hours  in  luxurious  ease.  The 
best  artists  in  Rome — the  Sienese  master  Baldassare 
Peruzzi,  who  was  probably  the  architect  of  the  house, 
Sebastiano  del  Piombo  and  Sodoma — decorated  the 
rooms  with  frescoes.  At  the  end  of  one  hall  Raphael 
painted  his  divine  Galatea,  in  which  Castiglione  saw 
the  perfect  flower  of  the  humanist's  dreams,  while 
his  scholars  decorated  the  spandrils  of  the  open  loggia 
with  scenes  from  the  popular  tale  of  Cupid  and  Psyche, 
and  transformed  its  vaulted  roof  into  a  bower  of  green 
leaves  and  garlands  of  flowers  with  rich  tapestries 
spread  out  against  the  blue  sky.  When  at  Christmas 
1518  the  wealthy  banker  opened  his  villa  doors  to  the 
public,  all  Rome  flocked  to  Trastevere,  and  a  scene  of 
the  wildest  enthusiasm  took  place.  Poets  celebrated 
the  marvels  of  Chigi's  villa  in  Latin  and  Italian  verse 
and  congratulated  the  owner  on  the  possession  of  this 
pearl  without  price.  Unfortunately  the  garden-house 
designed  by  Raphael  on  the  edge  of  the  river,  where 
Chigi  entertained  the  Pope  and  Cardinals  at  banquets 
of  Lucullan  fame,  was  demolished,  together  with  the 
greater  part  of  the  villa  grounds,  when  the  new  em- 
bankment was  built  in  1883. 

T.eo  the  Tenth,  the  typical  Renaissance  Pope,  who 
determined,  from  the  moment  of  his  election,  "  to 
enjoy  the  Papacy,"  and  took  especial  interest  in  all 

the  minor  branches  of  art,  shared  the  fashionable  taste 

80 


THE    GARDENS   OF   PAPAL    ROME 

for  gardens.  When  he  was  at  the  Vatican  he  rarely 
failed  to  take  an  afternoon  ride  on  his  white  mule  to 
inspect  the  latest  improvements  in  the  grounds,  and 
he  laid  out  a  garden  in  the  precincts  of  the  CastelF 
Sant'  Angelo,  where  he  spent  the  Carnival,  looking 
on  at  masquerades  or  watching  mimic  battles  in  which 
the  members  of  his  household  pelted  each  other  with 
oranges.  He  too  had  a  country-house  which  he  took 
delight  in  beautifying,  at  La  Magliana  (Manlian,  as  the 
English  ambassadors  called  it),  in  the  Campagna  on  the 
way  to  Fiumicino,  nine  miles  beyond  the  Porta  Portese. 
It  is  a  pleasant  spot,  in  the  green  meadows  on  the  banks 
of  the  Tiber,  with  charming  views  of  the  winding  river 
and  Alban  Hills.  Girolamo  Riario,  the  nephew  of 
Sixtus  the  Fourth,  first  built  a  hunting-lodge  here,  sur- 
rounded by  a  moat  and  battlemented  walls,  on  the  site 
of  a  farm  which  originally  belonged  to  the  Manlian 
ens^  and  Julius  the  Second  employed  Bramante  to  add 
a  banquet-hall  which  still  bears  the  oak-tree  of  the 
"  della  Rovere  "  on  the  frieze.  Leo  the  Tenth  found 
La  Magliana  a  convenient  centre  for  hunting  expedi- 
tions, and  often  sought  shelter  in  this  favourite  retreat 
from  business  cares.  In  his  later  years  he  built  a  grand 
staircase  and  consistprial  hall  on  the  upper  floor,  which 
Lo  Spagna  decorated  with  graceful  frescoes  of  "  Apollo 
and  the  Muses"  from  Raphael's  designs.  And  an 

entry  in  the  household  accounts  kept  by  the  Pope's 

81  F 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

confidential  chamberlain,  Serapica,  records  the  payment 
of  wages  to  the  labourers  who  planted  lemon  and  mul- 
berry trees  in  the  garden  at  La  Magliana.1  Many  were 
the  gay  festivities  that  were  held  here,  many  the  memor- 
able interviews  that  took  place  in  these  halls.  Here, 
in  the  winter  of  1515,  the  Pope  gave  one  of  his  big 
hunting  parties  in  honour  of  Isabella  d'Este,  when  fifty 
stags  and  twenty  wild  boars  were  killed  in  one  day. 
Here  in  the  following  year  Isabella's  sister-in-law,  the 
noble  Duchess  Elisabetta,  came  to  make  a  last  effort  on 
behalf  of  her  nephew  Francesco  Maria,  and  vainly  im- 
plored the  Holy  Father  to  avert  the  blow  that  was 
about  to  fall  on  her  beloved  Urbino.  It  was  at  La 
Magliana,  in  November  1521,  that  Leo  the  Tenth 
received  tidings  of  the  rout  of  the  French  and  the 
capture  of  Milan,  a  piece  of  news  which,  he  told 
Castiglione,  gave  him  as  much  pleasure  as  his  election 
to  the  Papacy.  And  here,  that  same  evening,  as  he 
watched  the  bonfires  which  the  Swiss  guards  lighted  in 
honour  of  this  joyful  event,  he  caught  the  fatal  chill 
which  ended  his  life  in  a  few  days. 

"  On  Sunday,"  wrote  Castiglione  to  Mantua,  "  the 
Pope  received  the  news.  The  next  Sunday  he  was 
dead.  Exactly  a  week  ago  he  returned  from  La 
Magliana  with  as  much  joy  and  triumph  as  when  he 
was  first  made  Pope.  The  whole  city  came  out  to 

1  L.  Pastor,  History  of  the  Popes^  viii.  166. 
82 


THE    GARDENS   OF   PAPAL    ROME 

meet  him,  and  troops  of  children  waving  olive  boughs 
in  their  hands.  To-day  there  will  be  a  very  different 
kind  of  procession.  ...  So  the  glories  of  this  world 
pass  away  and  our  Lord  God  shatters  the  plans  of  poor 
mortals  as  He  sees  fit."  * 

After  Leo  the  Tenth's  death  La  Magliana  was  prac- 
tically deserted  by  the  Papal  Court.  To-day  it  is  a 
farmhouse  and  the  walls  are  crumbling  to  pieces.  The 
ceilings  are  blackened  with  smoke,  and  the  banquet- 
halls  where  cardinals  and  princes  feasted  have  been 
turned  into  barns  and  stables.  Lo  Spagna's  frescoes 
were  removed  many  years  ago  to  the  Louvre  and  the 
Capitol,  and  little  remains  to  recall  the  time  when  these 
empty  halls  were  crowded  with  a  gay  throng  of  cour- 
tiers and  servants,  and  the  clatter  of  horses'  hoofs  and 
the  joyous  sound  of  the  horn  rang  through  the  court- 
yard. 

Popes  and  cardinals,  princes  and  scholars,  each  had 
his  country-house  which  he  built  and  decorated  after 
his  fashion.  But  the  grandest  of  all  the  villas  that 
rose  into  being  in  the  age  of  Leo  was  the  pleasure- 
house  which  Raphael  built  on  the  slopes  of  Monte 
Mario  for  the  Pope's  nephew,  Cardinal  Giulio  de' 
Medici,  afterwards  Pope  Clement  the  Seventh.  Not 
only  was  Cardinal  Giulio  his  uncle's  most  influential 
counsellor,  but  popular  report  already  marked  him  out 
1  Contin,  Lettere  Diplomaticke,  p.  19. 

83 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

as  the  next  Pope,  and  Raphael,  who  stood  in  high  favour 
at  the  Vatican,  could  hardly  decline  the  new  commis- 
sion that  was  pressed  upon  him.  More  than  this,  the 
task  was  a  congenial  one,  and  called  out  all  his 
sympathies. 

Since  the  young  painter  of  Urbino  first  came  to 
Rome  in  1508,  he  had  lived  in  close  intercourse  with 
his  fellow-citizen  Bramante.  Ever  ready  to  learn,  the 
wonderful  youth  had  quickly  absorbed  the  great  archi- 
tect's principles  and  caught  his  enthusiasm  for  classical 
art.  As  he  wrote  to  Castiglione,  soon  after  he  was 
appointed  architect  of  St.  Peter's :  "  I  long  to  find  out 
more  about  the  form  of  classical  buildings,  and  yet 
I  know  not  if  my  dreams  may  not  end  as  the  flight 
of  Icarus."  When  he  took  that  famous  excursion  to 
Tivoli  with  Bembo  and  Castiglione  and  their  Venetian 
friends  in  April  1516,  the  Cardinal's  Vigna  may  already 
have  been  in  his  mind.  He  found  inspiration,  there 
can  be  little  doubt,  in  the  stupendous  fragments  of 
Hadrian's  villa,  and  reproduced  certain  features  of  the 
ruins  in  the  gardens  on  Monte  Mario.  We  have  no 
positive  information  as  to  the  date  when  the  building  of 
the  villa  was  actually  begun,  but  we  know  that  con- 
siderable progress  had  been  made  by  June  1519,  and 
that  the  work  was  already  exciting  great  interest  at 
the  Vatican.  This  we  learn  from  a  letter  in  which 
Castiglione,  writing  to  Isabella,  after  describing  the  new 


THE    GARDENS    OF   PAPAL    ROME 

Loggia  as  more  beautiful  than  any  work  of  modern 
times,  adds  the  following  words :  "  Raphael  is  also 
building  a  villa  for  the  Reverendissimo  Medici,  which 
will  be  a  most  excellent  thing.  The  Pope  goes  there 
very  often.  It  is  just  under  the  Cross  on  Monte 
Mario."  l 

No  site  could  have  been  finer  or  more  appropriate 
than  this  which  Raphael  chose  for  Cardinal  Giulio's 
villa  on  the  eastern  slopes  of  Monte  Mario,  about  two 
miles  north  of  the  Borgo.  "  Here,"  in  Vasari's  words, 
"  besides  the  beautiful  view  of  the  Campagna,"  with 
the  Sabine  hills  and  far  peaks  of  Soracte  in  the  distance, 
"  were  running  water,  woods,  and  a  wide  plain  stretch- 
ing along  the  Tiber  as  far  as  Ponte  Molle,  while  on  the 
other  side  the  meadows  reached  to  the  gates  of  St. 
Peter's."  At  the  back  the  house  was  well  protected 
from  cold  winds,  while  its  position  in  front  of  the  dark 
masses  of  woods  made  it  a  conspicuous  object  from  the 
great  Flaminian  Way,  the  road  by  which  most  travellers 
entered  Rome.  Here,  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood 
of  the  Vatican,  the  Cardinal  could  enjoy  cool  shades 
and  fresh  breezes  in  the  summer  months,  and  would 
be  able  at  the  same  time  to  entertain  any  distinguished 
guests  who  might  visit  the  Eternal  City. 

A  letter  which  Raphael  addressed  to  Castiglione  a  few 

1  Archruio  Gonzaga,  Mantova.     Corrispondenza  di  Roma^  1519. 

2  Vite  deipiu  eccellenti  Pittori,  x.  283. 

85 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

months  before  his  death,  giving  a  full  description  of  the 
Cardinal's  Vigna^  has  unfortunately  been  lost,  so  that  it 
is  impossible  to  decide  with  any  certainty  what  stage  the 
work  had  reached  when  he  died  in  April  1520.  But 
there  can  be  little  doubt  that  by  this  time  the  building 
itself  and  its  interior  decoration  were  both  well  advanced. 
A  large  number  of  drawings  made  by  Raphael's  assist- 
ants for  the  villa  and  its  grounds  are  still  preserved  in 
the  Uffizi,  and  have  been  reproduced  by  Geymiiller  and 
Professor  Hofmann  in  their  excellent  works  on  the 
subject.1  No  less  than  four  of  these  artists  belonged 
to  the  San  Gallo  family,  that  gifted  race  of  architects 
and  sculptors  who  originally  took  their  name  from  one 
of  the  gates  in  Florence  and  all  worked  in  Raphael's 
shop.  Chief  among  them  was  Antonio  di  San  Gallo, 
who  came  to  Rome  at  the  age  of  eighteen  and  spent 
forty-two  years  in  the  service  of  the  Popes,  working 
first  as  Raphael's  assistant  and  eventually  succeeding 
him  as  architect  of  St.  Peter's.  He  and  his  brother 
Battista — surnamed  il  gobbo,  assisted  by  their  cousin 
Francesco  and  Bastiano,  prepared  the  designs  for  the 
villa  from  their  master's  sketches,  supplemented,  after 
Raphael's  habit,  by  instructions  from  his  own  lips. 
From  these  plans,  and  more  especially  from  one  drawn 

1  tt.v.Gzymu\\&,RajfaellostudiatocomeArchitetto;  T.  Hofmann, 
Raphael  als  Architekt.  La  Villa  Madama.  Cf.  Halsey  Ricardo, 
"The  Cardinal  Medici's  Pleasure-house"  (Journal  of  the  Royal  Insti- 
tute of  British  Architects^  xviii.  6). 

86 


THE   GARDENS    OF   PAPAL    ROME 

by  Battista  under  Raphael's  direction,  we  are  able  to 
realise  the  magnificence  of  the  original  design,  which  was 
never  wholly  executed.  The  chief  facade  of  the  house, 
looking  east,  was  remarkable  for  its  simple  and  impos- 
ing character.  The  central  portico  was  flanked  by  two 
wings  each  ending  in  a  tower.  On  the  south  side,  a 
stately  hemicycle  of  Ionic  pillars  with  niches  for  statues, 
intended  for  use  as  a  theatre,  looked  towards  the  Borgo 
and  St.  Peter's,  and,  on  the  north,  another  fine  portico 
opened  on  the  gardens. 

But  the  chief  feature  of  the  house  was  the  great 
central  Loggia,  a  magnificent  hall  with  three  arches  sup- 
porting a  lofty  dome,  entirely  decorated  with  delicate 
reliefs  in  stucco  and  fresco,  in  the  same  style  as  the 
Vatican  Loggia.  The  internal  decoration  of  the  villa 
was  carried  out  by  Giulio  Romano  and  Giovanni  da 
Udine.  Giulio  was  Raphael's  favourite  pupil  and  chief 
assistant,  who  painted  Madonnas  and  frescoes  from  his 
master's  cartoons  and  acted  as  foreman  of  the  vast  work- 
shop in  which  architects  and  sculptors,  painters,  engravers, 
mosaic-workers,  wood-carvers,  and  gilders  were  employed 
to  carry  out  the  ideas  of  the  master-mind.  Giovanni 
was  a  young  Venetian  who,  after  Giorgione's  death,  had 
been  recommended  to  Castiglione  by  Cardinal  Grimani, 
and  placed  by  him  in  Raphael's  charge.  Of  all  the  great 
master's  scholars,  none  had  a  larger  share  of  his  spirit  or 
entered  more  fully  into  his  thoughts  than  this  lad  from 

87 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Friuli.  Like  all  his  comrades,  he  loved  Raphael  with 
devoted  affection,  and  when  he  died  more  than  forty 
years  afterwards  he  begged  with  his  last  breath  to  be 
buried  at  his  master's  feet. 

Giovanni  it  was  who  adorned  the  Vatican  Loggia 
with  fine  stucco  and  painted  reliefs,  after  the  manner  of 
the  ancients,  and  brought  this  style  to  so  rare  a  degree 
of  perfection.  While  Giulio  painted  frescoes  of  Poly- 
phemus and  Galatea  on  the  cupola  of  the  eastern 
apse,  and  adorned  the  banquet-halls  with  friezes  of 
putti,  candelabra,  and  festoons  of  leaves  and  flowers, 
.Giovanni  decorated  the  vaulted  ceiling  of  the  great 
Loggia  with  graceful  reliefs  of  classical  myths,  sub- 
jects from  Ovid's  Metamorphoses,  and  a  hundred  other 
exquisite  fancies.  All  the  gods  of  Olympus — Jupiter 
and  Ganymede,  Juno  driving  her  peacocks,  Neptune  in 
his  car,  Apollo  playing  the  lyre,  Diana  on  her  chariot, 
Bacchus  with  his  panther — were  introduced,  and 
together  with  them,  Tritons,  Centaurs,  Seasons,  busts 
of  poets,  dancing  girls,  sphinxes  and  dogs,  while  the 
Medici  arms — three  feathers  in  a  ring — appeared 
in  the  top  of  the  central  dome,  surmounted  by  the 
Cardinal's  hat.  This  alone  would  prove  that  the 
decorations  of  the  villa,  as  well  as  the  actual  struc- 
ture, were  executed  in  the  lifetime  of  Leo  the  Tenth, 
before  the  owner  of  the  house  himself  succeeded  to 

the  Papacy. 

88 


THE    GARDENS    OF   PAPAL    ROME 

The  delicate  grace  and  charm  of  these  reliefs,  the 
boundless  wealth  of  fancy  and  infinite  variety  of 
invention  which  they  reveal,  all  seem  to  indicate  how 
large  a  part  of  the  work  was  due  to  Raphael.  Some  of 
the  best  authorities,  Hittorf  for  instance,  pronounce 
the  stuccoes  of  Villa  Madama  to  be  superior  in  beauty 
of  detail  and  composition  to  those  of  the  Vatican 
Loggie,  while  Burckhardt  declares  that  some  of  the 
motives  can  only  have  emanated  from  the  master's 
brain.1 

But  what  concerns  us  more  nearly  is  that  Raphael 
himself,  without  doubt,  designed  the  gardens  of  Villa 
Madama.  Of  this  we  have  certain  proof  in  a  drawing 
by  his  own  hand  in  the  Uffizi  (No.  1355).  Here, 
lightly  sketched  after  his  manner,  are  the  outlines  of 
the  extensive  gardens  which  he  planned  on  the  north- 
east of  the  house,  where  the  ground  falls  towards  the 
Tiber  and  Ponte  Molle.  We  see  how  carefully  he 
adapted  his  design  to  the  configuration  of  the  hillside 
by  placing  the  gardens  at  three  different  levels.  /First 
of  all,  from  the  terrace  in  front  of  the  fayade,  a  double 
flight  of  steps  led  down  to  a  square  garden  laid  out  in 
flower-beds  and  divided  by  pergolas,  with  one  large 
central  pavilion.  From  this  parterre  another  broad 
stairway  led  to  a  round  garden,  adorned  with  loggias 
and  clumps  of  cypresses,  while  the  third  and  largest 
1  Der  Cicerone,  ii.  179. 

89 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

garden,  shaped  in  the  form  of  a  circus,  lay  in  the 
hollow  of  the  valley.  This  lowest  garden  could  be 
used  as  an  arena  for  games  and  bull-fights,  and  con- 
tained an  oval  piece  of  water  evidently  imitated  from 
the  oblong  basin  excavated  in  the  tufa  of  the  Poecile  at 
Hadrian's  villa. )  From  the  slight  indications  given  in 
Raphael's  sketch,  his  pupils  filled  up  the  plans  and 
produced  designs  in  which  the  temples,  loggias,  stair- 
ways, fountains,  and  groves  are  clearly  marked,  and  the 
names  of  the  trees — oranges,  beeches,  and  chestnuts — 
are  written.1 

Vasari  speaks  with  admiration  of  the  pavilions, 
loggie,  rustic  fountains,  paved  courts,  fish-ponds,  and 
other  ornamental  objects,  all  arranged  in  perfect  order 
and  harmony,  which  adorned  the  grounds  of  the 
Nymphasum,  and  dwells  with  especial  delight  on  two 
beautiful  fountains  made  by  Giovanni  da  Udine.  One 
of  these,  which  is  still  in  existence,  stood  at  the  end  of 
the  upper  terrace  and  was  decorated  with  an  elephant's 
head,  carved  in  marble,  a  basin  adorned  with  stucco 
shells,  and  marine  creatures,  imitated  from  the  reliefs 
of  the  recently  discovered  Temple  of  Neptune.  The 
other  was  placed  at  the  back  of  a  rocky  cave,  in  a 
dense  thicket.  Here  Giovanni  carved  a  lion's  head 
gracefully  wreathed  in  maidenhair  and  other  grasses, 
"  wrought  with  such  delicacy  and  skill  that  this  savage 
1  See  No.  789  by  Francesco  di  San  Gallo,  &c. 

9° 


THE    GARDENS    OF   PAPAL    ROME 

spot  was  turned  into  an  earthly  paradise."  So  well 
pleased  was  the  Cardinal  with  his  work  that  he  re- 
warded the  artist  with  a  canonry  of  St.  Peter's. 

Although  Raphael's  design  was  never  entirely  com- 
pleted, all  his  contemporaries  speak  with  enthusiasm  of 
the  wonderful  beauty  and  enchantment  of  the  villa  on 
Monte  Mario — "  luogo  stupendo  e  delizioso."  His  friend, 
the  poet  Tebaldeo,  sang  its  praises  in  verse,  and  Giulio 
Romano  introduced  a  view  of  the  house  and  pillared 
hemicycle  in  the  background  of  his  fresco  of  "  The 
Battle  of  Constantine  at  Ponte  Molle."  But,  from  the 
first,  ill-luck  attended  Villa  Madama.  While  it  was 
still  unfinished  Raphael  himself  died,  leaving  his  scholars 
orphaned  and  all  Rome  in  tears.  Before  the  end  of 
the  next  year  Leo  the  Tenth  followed  him  to  the  grave 
and  was  succeeded  by  Adrian  the  Sixth.  The  works  of 
the  Vatican  were  stopped,  Cardinal  de'  Medici  retired 
to  Florence,  and  artists  and  poets  fled  from  a  court 
"  where  genius,"  as  Vasari  said,  "was  no  longer  esteemed, 
and  painters  were  left  to  die  of  hunger."  Twice  only 
during  Adrian's  brief  reign  do  we  find  any  mention  of 
Raphael's  villa.  In  the  spring  of  1523  the  Florentine 
ambassadors,  who  came  to  Rome  to  congratulate  the 
new  Pope,  spent  two  nights  at  the  Vigna  de'  Medici, 
"  a  most  beautiful  palace,"  writes  Pesaro,  "  outside  the 
city  gates,"  in  order  to  allow  the  Venetian  envoys  to 
enter  Rome  first.  The  other  occasion  was  a  few  weeks 

91 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

later,  when  Adrian  the  Sixth,  in  alarm  at  the  discovery 
of  Cardinal  Soderini's  plot  to  bring  back  the  French, 
sent  for  Cardinal  de'  Medici  to  the  Vatican.  His  Holi- 
ness was  then  persuaded  to  accompany  the  Cardinal  to 
his  Vigna  outside  the  walls,  where  the  whole  day  was 
spent  in  earnest  consultation.  By  the  end  of  the  year 
Adrian  was  dead,  and  Cardinal  de'  Medici  had  been 
elected  Pope  with  the  title  of  Clement  the  Seventh. 
But  money  was  scarce,  and  the  new  Pope  had  no  time 
or  thought  to  spend  on  his  villa.  "Unlike  Leo," 
remarked  the  Venetian  Foscari,  "  His  Holiness  has 
only  been  twice  to  La  Magliana  in  the  last  two  years, 
and  has  seldom  had  time  to  visit  his  own  Vigna" 
Giulio  Romano  left  Rome  for  Mantua  in  1524,  but 
Giovanni  da  Udine  was  again  employed  at  the  Villa — 
according  to  Vasari — "on  things  of  small  importance," 
probably  the  fountains  and  pavilions  in  the  gardens. 
An  inscription,  however,  bearing  his  name  and  the 
date  1525,  has  lately  been  discovered  on  a  pillar  in 
the  south  corridor,  which  seems  to  show  that  he  was 
employed  to  complete  the  internal  decorations. 

In  the  spring  of  the  same  year  a  festa  was  given  at 
the  Pope's  Vigna  in  honour  of  the  Marchesa  Isabella  of 
Mantua.  This  distinguished  lady,  who  had  long  been 
intimate  with  the  Medici,  and  whose  son  held  the 
office  of  Captain  of  the  Church,  arrived  in  Rome  on 

the  2nd  of  March,  just  as  the  news  of  the  battle  of 

92 


THE    GARDENS   OF   PAPAL    ROME 

Pavia  reached  the  Vatican.  She  witnessed  the  Pope's 
procession  to  the  Lateran  and  was  received  by  him  in 
private  audience.  Every  day  she  might  be  seen,  ac- 
companied by  her  fair  maids-of-honour,  and  escorted 
by  troops  of  courtiers,  driving  in  her  chariot  through 
the  streets — a  sight,  remarked  Bembo,  as  novel  as  it 
was  charming.  She  rode  out  to  Roma  vecchia,  and,  in 
spite  of  her  advancing  years,  showed  herself  as  inde- 
fatigable a  sightseer  as  she  had  ever  been.  And, 
one  lovely  evening  in  May,  the  Pope's  kinsman, 
Franceschino  Cib6,  invited  her  to  supper  at  the  Vigna 
of  his  Holiness  on  Monte  Mario.  "Yesterday," 
wrote  Francesco  Gonzaga,  the  Mantuan  envoy,  who 
had  lately  succeeded  Castiglione,  "  Her  Excellency  was 
invited  by  Cavaliere  Franceschino  to  supper  at  the 
Pope's  Vigna,  where  he  has  a  most  beautiful  palace,  still 
unfinished,  that  was  built  when  he  was  Cardinal,  with 
some  rooms  completed  and  decorated  in  the  most 
sumptuous  and  magnificent  manner.  The  place  is 
delicious  and  most  enjoyable,  and  the  site  is  the 
finest  in  the  world."  The  ambassador  proceeds  to 
describe  the  elegant  and  abundant  supper  that  was 
served  by  the  Pope's  servants  on  his  own  gold  plate, 
the  musical  performances  of  various  kinds,  and  other 
delightful  entertainments,  with  which  the  ladies  were 
amused  during  the  three  hours  which  they  spent  at 
the  villa. 

93 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

But  what  pleased  the  Marchesa  more  than  all  were 
the  superb  antiques  which  adorned  the  gardens.  One 
of  these  was  a  colossal  Jove,  lately  dug  up  in  Cardinal 
Armellini's  Vigna^  which,  besides  being  of  the  finest 
marble,  was  evidently  the  work  of  a  most  excellent 
master.  The  head,  it  is  true,  was  divided  from  the 
bust,  the  arms  were  gone,  and  the  legs  mutilated,  but 
the  subtle  beauty  of  the  head  and  beard  excited  the 
admiration  of  all  the  best  connoisseurs,  who  pronounced 
it  to  be  one  of  the  finest  things  found  in  Rome  for 
many  years  past.  In  a  postscript  written  by  her  own 
hand,  Isabella  tells  her  son  how  honourably  she  was 
entertained  at  the  Pope's  villa,  eating  off  His  Holiness's 
own  dishes  and  being  waited  on  by  his  servants,  while 
at  the  end  of  supper  she  was  presented  with  a  costly 
pair  of  gloves,  and  each  of  the  other  ladies  received  a 
casket  of  perfumes.  "  The  place/'  she  adds,  "  although 
unfinished,  is  most  delightful  and  full  of  wonderful 
antiques  which  we  longed  to  carry  off  to  one  of  our 
own  houses."  * 

Isabella  was  almost  the  last  guest  who  saw  Raphael's 
villa  in  its  perfection.  On  the  2nd  of  May  1527  the 
Imperialist  armies  crossed  Monte  Mario  and  stormed 
the  walls  of  the  Borgo.  Bourbon  fell  as  he  led  the 
assault,  and  his  wild  hordes  of  German  and  Spanish 
soldiery  were  let  loose  on  the  defenceless  city. 
1  A.  Luzio  in  Archivio  storico  lombardo,  x.  15. 

94 


THE    GARDENS    OF   PAPAL    ROME 

From  the  ramparts  of  Castell'  Sant' .  Angelo,  Pope 
Clement  saw  the  thick  columns  of  smoke  rising 
above  his  beautiful  villa.  "  This  is  Pompeo  Colonna's 
revenge,"  he  said,  "  for  the  castles  and  villages  which 
I  destroyed  on  his  estates."  The  invaders  had  indeed 
set  fire  to  the  house,  and  considerable  damage  was  done. 
The  grand  staircase  and  eastern  portico  were  blown  up, 
the  marble  hemicycle  was  partly  destroyed,  and  the 
roof  of  the  upper  story  fell  in.  Fortunately  the  great 
Loggia  remained  unhurt,  and  Giulio  Romano's  frescoes 
and  Giovanni  da  Udine's  stuccoes  escaped  injury.  A 
temporary  roof  was  hastily  erected  to  prevent  further 
damage,  and,  after  the  Pope's  return  to  Rome  in  1530, 
he  employed  Raphael's  former  colleague,  Antonio  di 
San  Gallo,  to  restore  the  villa.  But  the  grand  staircase 
and  upper  story  were  never  rebuilt,  and  the  colonnade 
of  the  hemicycle  was  allowed  to  remain  in  ruins.  After 
Clement  the  Seventh's  death,  in  1534,  his  villa  was  sold 
to  the  Canons  of  S.  Eustachio,  whose  property  it 
remained  until  the  marriage  of  Paul  the  Third's 
nephew,  Ottavio  Farnese,  to  the  Emperor  Charles  the 
Fifth's  daughter  Margaret.  When  the  Imperial  bride, 
Madama  Margherita,  came  to  Rome  in  1538,  she  stayed 
at  the  villa  before  making  her  state  entry  into  the  city, 
and  was  so  well  pleased  with  the  house  that  the  Pope 
purchased  it  for  her  private  use.  Henceforth  Margaret 
made  Clement  the  Seventh's  Vigna  her  country-house, 

95 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

and  it  became  known  by  the  name  of  Villa  Madama. 
Even  in  her  lifetime,  however,  many  of  its  treasures 
were  dispersed.  The  noble  statue  of  Jupiter,  which 
excited  the  admiration  of  both  Isabella  d'Este  and 
Vasari,  was  given  by  the  Farnese  to  King  Francis  the 
First,  while  they  presented  another  very  fine  bust  to 
Charles  the  Fifth's  powerful  minister,  Cardinal  de 
Granvelle.  After  Margaret's  death  in  1586,  Villa 
Madama  remained  the  property  of  the  Farnese  family, 
who  added  a  few  new  rooms  and  domestic  offices  with  a 
view  to  rendering  the  house  more  habitable.  Cardinal 
Odoardo  Farnese  often  spent  the  summer  here,  and 
gave  at  least  one  memorable  entertainment  at  Villa 
Madama.  This  was  in  the  closing  years  of  the  six- 
teenth century,  when  //  Pastor  Fido,  the  pastoral  drama 
of  the  Ferrarese  poet,  Battista  Guarini,  was  per- 
formed in  these  grounds  in  the  presence  of  a  brilliant 
company  of  cardinals  and  princes.  The  last  represen- 
tative of  the  family,  Elisabetta  Farnese,  became  the 
wife  of  King  Philip  the  Fifth  of  Spain.  At  her  death 
Villa  Madama  passed  to  her  son,  Charles  the  Third, 
King  of  Naples,  and  still  belongs  to  his  Bourbon 
descendants.  During  the  last  1 50  years  Villa  Madama 
has  been  abandoned  by  its  owners  and  allowed  to  fall 
into  ruin.  The  English  traveller  Eaton,  who  visited 
Rome  in  1820,  gives  a  melancholy  picture  of  the  state 
to  which  it  was  reduced  by  this  time.  The  chapel  had 


THE    GARDENS   OF   PAPAL    ROME 

fallen  in,  several  of  the  rooms  were  roofless,  and  the 
beautiful  frescoes  were  mouldering  on  the  mildewed 
walls — a  truly  pitiful  condition  ! 

Meanwhile,  Raphael's  unfinished  villa  had  supplied 
a  model  for  many  other  splendid  pleasure-houses,  and 
his  original  designs  exerted  a  lasting  influence  on 
the  development  of  villa  architecture  in  Italy. 
Already  in  1522,  only  two  years  after  the  master's 
death,  the  Duke  of  Urbino,  Francesco  Maria,  asked 
Castiglione  to  lend  him  Raphael's  letter  with  the  de- 
scription of  the  Medici  Vigna^  in  order  that  it  might  be 
a  guide  to  him  in  laying  out  the  house  and  grounds  of 
the  Villa  Imperiale  at  Pesaro.  Count  Baldassare  had 
unluckily  left  Raphael's  letter  in  his  house  at  Mantua, 
but  referred  the  Duke  to  a  cousin  of  the  painter,  Don 
Girolamo  Vagnino,  who  had  another  copy  with  him  at 
Urbino.  With  the  help  of  this  precious  letter,  Genga 
and  his  assistants  were  able  to  build  and  adorn  the 
palace  which  Duchess  Leonora  reared  in  her  lord's 
absence  on  the  heights  above  Pesaro  and  the  Adriatic. 
This  villa,  rich  in  marbles  and  frescoes,  and  sur- 
rounded with  terraces,  colonnades,  orange  and  myrtle 
groves,  was  long  the  wonder  and  delight  of  all 
visitors  to  Pesaro,  and  Bembo  declared  that  it  was 
designed  with  greater  skill  and  resembled  antique  villas 
more  closely  than  any  modern  building  that  he  had 
ever  seen.  At  the  same  time,  Giulio  Romano,  coming 

97  G 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

to  Mantua  with  the  remembrance  of  Villa  Madama  fresh 
in  his  mind,  transformed  the  stables  of  the  Gonzaga 
dukes  on  the  marshes  of  the  Te  into  another 
splendid  pleasure-house,  adorned  with  similar  frescoes 
and  stucco  reliefs. 

Yet  another  palatial  villa  in  North  Italy  was  clearly 
modelled  on  the  same  pattern.  This  was  Cricoli,  the 
sumptuous  house  built  by  Leo  the  Tenth  and  Clement 
the  Seventh's  nuncio,  the  learned  patrician  Trissino,  on 
the  green  hills  near  his  home  at  Vicenza.  Trissino's 
keen  admiration  for  antique  art  led  him  to  a  close 
study  of  Vitruvius,  and,  fired  by  the  examples  of 
Renaissance  architecture  which  he  saw  in  Rome,  he 
laid  out  his  villa  and  gardens  with  so  much  taste  and 
judgment  that,  in  the  words  of  a  contemporary,  they 
made  the  Muses  forget  Helicon  and  Parnassus.  It  is 
interesting  to  remember  that  this  house  at  Cricoli, 
which  certainly  bears  a  close  resemblance  to  Villa 
Madama,  inspired  the  boy  Palladio  with  his  first 
passion  for  classical  building,  and  started  him  on  the 
career  that  was  to  affect  the  whole  future  course  of 
architecture.  So,  as  Geymiiller  has  justly  remarked, 
Raphael  became  the  link  that  connects  Bramante  with 
Palladio,  and  Roman  architecture  with  that  of  northern 
cities. 

When,  in  the  latter  half  of  the  century,  the  great 
outburst  of  gardening  took  place  in  Rome,  the  in- 


THE    GARDENS   OF  PAPAL   ROME 

fluence  of  Raphael's  creation  still  made  itself  felt.  In 
some  instances  the  general  arrangement  of  the  house 
and  grounds,  in  others  certain  individual  motives  were 
borrowed  from  Villa  Madama.  Thus  Antonio  di  San 
Gallo  laid  out  the  Vatican  grounds  with  broad  flights 
of  steps  and  gardens  at  different  levels,  and  in  the 
hollow  of  the  valley  his  successor,  Pirro  Ligorio,  placed 
that  jewel  of  loveliness,  the  Casino  of  Pope  Pius  the 
Fourth.  While  the  example  of  a  great  central  atrium 
was  imitated  in  the  Palazzo  Farnese  and  the  Pitti,  the 
hemicycle  and  Nymphaeum  were  reproduced  in  the 
villa  on  the  Tiber  which  Pope  Julius  the  Third  built 
fo;-  himself  outside  the  Porta  del  Popolo,  within  sight 
of  Villa  Madama.  When,  in  the  middle  of  the 
century,  another  Cardinal  de'  Medici  planned  the  fair 
Casino  on  the  brow  of  Monte  Pincio,  which  still 
remains  the  least  altered  of  all  the  great  Roman  villas, 
when  he  laid  out  the  long  pine  and  ilex  avenues,  and 
decorated  fountains  and  alleys  with  the  statues  of 
Niobe  and  her  children,  with  Giovanni  da  Bologna's 
bronze  Mercury  and  the  matchless  Venus,  he  must 
have  remembered  Pope  Clement's  Vigna  and  have 
often  gone  there  in  search  of  new  ideas.  And  can 
we  doubt  that  Ippolito  d'Este,  the  brilliant  young 
Cardinal,  thought  of  Raphael,  whose  name  was  a 
household  word  in  his  home  at  Ferrara,  and  of  the 
villa  on  Monte  Mario,  before  he  chose  the  steep  hill 

99 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

of  Tivoli  above  the  rushing  waters  of  the  Anio,  to  be 
the  site  of  his  famous  pleasure-house?  But  already 
the  great  age  was  passing  away  and  the  baroque  was 
fast  gaining  ground.  Everywhere  during  the  seven- 
teenth century  we  find  chateaux  d'eaux,  water-organs, 
girandolas,  spouting  giants,  "  wetting  sports  and  all 
those  artificial  miracles "  which  were  the  inevitable 
features  of  a  Roman  garden  in  the  days  of  our  English 
travellers,  Evelyn  and  Lassels.  Such  extravagances 
bore  witness  to  the  widespread  perversion  of  taste  and 
general  decadence  which  prevailed  on  all  sides,  and 
could  only  be  redeemed  by  the  beauty  of  landscape 
and  the  luxuriant  vegetation  which  is  the  glory  of 
Italian  gardens. 

But  we  have  travelled  a  long  way  from  the  Bel- 
vedere courts  and  Raphael's  villa.  It  is  now  the 
saddest,  most  desolate  spot  in  all  Rome,  this  house 
which  the  Cardinal  meant  to  be  so  gay.  The  marble 
statues  are  gone,  those  priceless  antiques  which  filled 
Isabella's  soul  with  wonder.  The  mighty  pillars  of 
the  hemicycle  are  crumbling  away,  its  empty  niches 
are  covered  with  moss  and  lichen.  Hardly  a  trace 
remains  of  the  gardens  designed  by  Raphael  with  such 
elaborate  care.  The  Nymphaeum  is  a  barren  waste. 
Of  all  the  temples  and  porticoes  which  once  adorned 
the  grounds  only  the  modest  roof  of  the  Palazzina 

may  still  be  seen,  half-hidden  among  the  cypresses  in 

100 


THE   GARDENS   OF   PAPAL    ROME 

the  valley.  The  walks  along  the  hillside  are  over- 
grown with  weeds;  the  very  path  leading  up  to  the 
door  is  choked  with  nettles.  And  yet,  in  spite  of 
all  this  neglect  and  decay,  there  is  a  strange  fascination 
about  the  place.  As  we  pace  the  wide  terrace  under 
the  carved  peristyle,  and  look  up  at  the  simple,  majestic 
forms  of  the  house,  we  feel  the  grandeur  of  Raphael's 
conception.  There  is  a  wealth  of  verdure  and  maiden- 
hair in  the  grottoes  under  the  massive  arches.  The 
streams  still  gush  from  the  marble  head  of  the  elephant 
fountain,  and  below,  the  clear  green  waters  sleep  in 
their  oval  basin.  Rome  and  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's 
lie  at  our  feet,  and  beyond  are  the  vast  plains  and 
far  hills  of  the  Campagna.  Within,  there  is  the  great 
Loggia  with  the  miracles  of  Giovanni  da  Udine's 
decoration  and  Giulio's  lovely  frieze  of  cherub-heads 
on  their  pale  blue  ground.  Here,  art  and  nature  still 
go  hand  in  hand.  The  magic  of  Raphael's  genius 
clings  to  these  forlorn  places  and  lends  them  an 
immortal  charm. 


1 01 


THE   GARDENS    OF   VENICE 

"  Veri  paradisi  terrestri  per  la  vaghezza  del  acre  e  del  orto,  luogo 
de  ninfe  e  de  semi-dei."— ANDREA  CALMO. 

FEW  Italians  take  greater  pleasure  in  flowers  and 
gardens  than  the  people  of  Venice,  the  city  in  the  sea. 
These  dwellers  in  the  lagoons,  whose  houses  rise  from 
the  water's  edge,  and  who  seldom  own  more  than  a 
few  feet  of  ground,  are  passionately  fond  of  plants 

and    blossoms.       They    cultivate   every    inch    of  soil 

\ 

\  within  these  narrow  bounds,  and  grow  vines  and 
j  acacias  round  every  traghetto  and  osteria.  Their  bal- 
conies are  hung  with  wisteria  and  Virginia  creeper, 
their  roofs  and  window-ledges  are  gay  with  flower- 
pots. Every  visitor  to  Venice  remembers  the  glimpses 
of  leafy  arbours,  of  palm  and  myrtle  and  pomegranate, 
that  charm  his  eyes  as  his  gondola  glides  along  the 
Grand  Canal,  the  flowery  paradise  behind  the  iron 
gates  of  Ca'  Foscari  and  Casa  Rossa,  the  gardens  of 
Palazzo  della  Mula  and  Venier,  the  trailing  roses  and 
white  convolvulus  of  the  loggia  at  Ca'  Capello — that 
fair  house  which  few  of  us  to-day  can  see  without 
a  sigh  for  the  gracious  presence  which  has  passed 
away.  Even  in  the  densely  populated  quarters  of  the 

city,  at   the   back   of  the    Carmine   and    San   Panta- 

102 


THE    GARDENS   OF   VENICE 

leone,  spacious  gardens  are  still  to  be  found,  where 
you  can  walk  between  rows  of  tall  cypresses  and 
pink  oleanders,  and  discover  ancient  wells  carved 
with  the  arms  of  Venetian  families  and  overgrown 
with  rose  and  jessamine,  or,  following  Byron's 
example,  pick  the  bunches  of  purple  grapes  which 
hang  from  the  pergola  overhead.  The  palace  where 
Bianca  Capello  lived,  still  retains  its  stately  Renais- 
sance terraces,  adorned  with  classical  peristyles  and 
moss-grown  statues  of  nymphs  and  fawns,  with 
avenues  of  ilex  and  cypress.  And  there  are  other 
gardens  in  the  outlying  parts  of  the  city,  where  you 
can  wander  at  will  among  tall  Madonna  lilies  and 
bowers  of  honeysuckle,  and  look  across  the  pearly 
lagoon  to  the  distant  shores  of  the  Lido  and  the 
open  sea,  without  hearing  a  sound  but  that  of  the 
waves  lapping  against  the  low  sea-wall.  But  these, 
for  the  most  part,  are  only  fragments  of  what  they 
once  were,  and  we  are  reminded  of  the  saying  of 
our  fellow-countryman,  Lassels,  who  declared  that 
in  Venice  gardens  were  as  wonderful  things  as 
coaches,  and  complained  that,  looking  down  from 
the  top  of  the  high  steeple,  he  only  saw  two  places 
where  there  were  any  trees !  This,  however,  was  at 
the  close  of  the  seventeenth  century,  when  wealthy 
Venetians  were  forsaking  the  city  for  villas  on  the 

mainland.     In  the  great  days  of  the  Republic,  when 

103 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

the  lion  of  St.  Mark  floated  over  distant  lands  and 
I  cities,  the  gardens  of  Venice  were  famous  for  their 
extent  and  beauty.  They  excited  the  wonder  and 
admiration  of  every  traveller  who  saw  "  the  triumphant 
city  "  for  the  first  time — such,  for  instance,  as  Pietro 
Casola,  the  Milanese  canon  who  came  to  Venice  in  1494, 
on  his  way  to  Jerusalem,  and  waited  a  fortnight  to 
sail  with  Agostino  Contarini  in  the  pilgrim-fleet  for  Jaffa. 

"  I  cannot  refrain,"  he  writes  in  his  Journal,  "  from 
repeating  that  nothing  has  surprised  me  more  in 
this  city  than  the  many  beautiful  gardens  which  are 
to  be  seen  here,  especially,  I  must  say,  those  belong- 
ing to  the  different  religious  Orders."  1 

In  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries  these  com- 
munities were  as  wealthy  as  they  were  numerous, 
and  their  churches  and  convents  were  among  the 
most  imposing  buildings  in  the  city.  There  were 
the  Benedictines  of  S.  Giorgio  Maggiore,  who  num- 
bered as  many  as  two  hundred  in  the  palmy  days 
when  Cardinal  Pole  paid  them  a  visit,  and  expressed 
equal  admiration  for  their  fine  library  and  shady 
gardens.  And  there  were  the  Augustinian  canons 
attached  to  the  well-known  church  now  known  as 
the  Madonna  dell'  Orto,  who  had  a  spacious  orchard 
full  of  apple  and  quince  trees,  and  a  hermitage  on 
the  island  of  S.  Cristoforo,  where,  Casola  tells  us, 
they  made  white  wax  enough  to  supply  all  the 

i  Canon  P.  Casola's  Pilgrimage^  ed.  by  M.  Newett,  142. 
104 


THE    GARDENS   OF   VENICE 

churches  and  chapels  in  Venice.  The  ancient  shrine 
of  S.  Francesco  della  Vigna  took  its  name  from  the 
friars'  vineyard,  which  was  said  to  be  the  largest  in 
Venice.  This  convent,  in  the  poorest  quarter  of  the 
city,  was  the  home  of  the  Osservanti  brothers,  and 
its  gardens  were  a  favourite  haunt  of  S.  Bernardino 
of  Siena,  the  founder  of  the  reformed  Franciscan 
order,  who  enjoyed  the  peace  and  seclusion  of  this 
quiet  retreat  in  his  brief  intervals  of  repose.  Nor 
were  the  nuns  without  their  gardens  and  orchards. 
Several  of  these  communities  were  notorious  not  only 
for  their  riches  and  popularity,  but  for  the  freedom 
which  they  enjoyed.  According  to  Casola,  they  might 
be  divided  into  two  classes,  the  nuns  who  were 
secluded,  and  those  who  ought  to  be  secluded. 
Among  the  former  were  the  holy  sisters  of  the 
order  of  Santa  Chiara,  whose  convent  was  attached 
to  the  church  of  "  La  Madonna  dei  Miracoli,"  that 
marvel  of  decorative  beauty  reared  by  Tullio  Lombardi 
early  in  the  sixteenth  century.  Among  the  latter 
were  the  Benedictine  nuns  of  S.  Zaccaria,  who  in 
Casola's  words  "  let  themselves  be  seen  very  willingly, 
both  young  and  old,"  1  and  the  "  Vergini  "  community 
of  Augustinian  nuns,  whose  convent  stood  opposite 
to  S.  Piero  di  Castello.  The  members  of  this  order 
were  all  ladies  of  noble  birth,  who  often  appeared  in 

1  Casola,  136. 
'•5. 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

public,  clad  in  sumptuous  clothes  and  rich  jewels, 
and  gave  festive  entertainments  to  illustrious  visitors, 
such  as  the  Duchess  of  Ferrara  and  her  daughters, 
Isabella  and  Beatrice  d'  Este. 

Another  community  whose  irregular  practices  gave 
rise  to  considerable  scandal  was  that  of  S.  Maria  della 
Celestia,  whose  convent  was  destroyed  in  the  last  cen- 
tury to  make  room  for  the  Arsenal.  The  "  Zeles- 
tre "  nuns,  as  they  were  commonly  called,  adopted 
white  habits  of  a  very  becoming  fashion,  and  went  so 
far  as  to  lay  aside  their  veils  and  wear  their  hair  in 
ringlets,  a  practice  which  drew  down  upon  them  a 
solemn  rebuke  from  the  Patriarch  of  Venice.  In  their 
convent  Easter  was  kept  with  as  great  mirth  and  fes- 
tivity as  if  it  had  been  another  Carnival,  and  on  the 
election  of  a  new  abbess,  in  May  1509,  they  gave  a 
festa,  at  which  several  young  patricians  were  present  and 
danced  all  night  with  the  nuns,  to  the  music  of  trum- 
pets and  fifes.  Even  in  Venice  such  orgies  could  not 
be  permitted  within  convent  walls,  and  on  the  follow- 
ing day  two  of  the  young  nobles  who  had  led  the 
revels  at  the  "  Zelestre "  were  summoned  to  appear 
before  the  Magnifico  Bernardo  Bembo,  and  duly  repri- 
manded for  the  disturbance  which  they  had  caused.1 

Most  of  these  convents  and  gardens  perished  long 
ago,  but  the  memory  of  one  of  them  is  still  fresh  in 

1  M.  Sanudo,  Diariiy  viii.  307. 
1 06 


THE    GARDENS   OF   VENICE 

the  remembrance  of  many  lovers  of  Venice.  Close  to 
the  Public  Gardens,  on  the  little  island  of  Sant'  Elena, 
there  stood  an  ancient  church  and  convent  with  a 
graveyard,  where  the  ashes  of  the  Empress  Helena, 
mother  of  Constantine  the  Great,  were  said  to  rest,  and 
where  many  noble  Venetian  families  had  their  burying- 
place.  It  was  the  most  romantic  spot  in  the  world. 
Violets  and  periwinkles  carpeted  the  grassy  glades 
under  the  elms  and  pine  groves,  tall  cypresses  and 
slender  marble  columns  framed  in  the  cloister  garden, 
where  pomegranates  and  oleanders  blossomed,  and  roses 
hung  in  profusion  over  the  low  red  wall. 

Far  away  to  the  north-west,  across  the  open  sea,  we 
could  see  the  mountains  of  Cadore,  and  beyond  the 
spires  of  Venice  rose  the  long  range  of  Euganean  hills. 
But  campanile  and  convent  garden,  marble  columns 
and  cypress  grove,  have  alike  vanished  before  the 
relentless  march  of  civilisation.  An  iron  foundry  has 
now  taken  their  place,  the  smoke  of  furnaces  blackens 
the  pure  atmosphere,  and  this  once  lovely  isle,  hallowed 
by  the  worship  and  memories  of  past  ages,  has  been 
utterly  ruined. 

In  the  golden  days  of  Venice,  when  Casola  and  De 
Commines  wrote  of  her  glories,  the  gardens  of  the 
patricians  were  as  numerous  as  those  of  the  religious 
orders.  Thirty  or  forty  years  later,  Sansovino  counted 

above  a  hundred  palaces  which  had  gardens  of  their 

107 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

own.1  Many  of  these  were  in  the  heart  of  the  city,  in 
the  populous  quarters  of  S.  Canciano  and  Canareggio. 
Cardinal  Grimani's  palace,  with  its  wonderful  library 
and  paintings,  stood  near  S.  Maria  Formosa ;  Marc* 
Antonio  Michieli,  the  Anonimo,  who  has  left  us  a  record 
of  contemporary  works  of  art  in  Venice  and  the  neigh- 
bourhood, and  was  himself  a  distinguished  collector, 
lived  in  the  parish  of  S.  Trovaso,  and  Bembo's  kins- 
man, Donato  Marcello,  had  a  villa  which  was  described 
as  a  luogo  delidssimo  in  the  Vignole — that  cluster  of 
green  islets  between  Murano  and  the  Lido  which  are 
still  planted  with  vineyards.  In  the  narrow  Calle  della 
Pieta,  behind  the  church  which  holds  Moretto's 
masterpiece,  was  the  little  garden  belonging  to  Ales- 
sandro  Vittoria,  where  the  accomplished  sculptor  tended 
his  favourite  flowers,  and  planted  all  manner  of  sweet- 
scented  herbs,  and  trained  the  roses  with  his  own  hands. 
The  master's  portrait-bust  remained  in  the  garden  until 
the  last  century,  and  his  ashes  rest  in  a  tomb,  designed 
by  himself,  in  the  neighbouring  church  of  S.  Zaccaria. 
But  most  of  the  finest  villas  and  largest  gardens  were 
to  be  found  on  the  island  of  the  Giudecca.  Here  the 
Doge,  Andrea  Gritti,  the  Barbaro  brothers,  the  illus- 
trious families  of  Mocenigo  and  Vendramini,  had 
spacious  gardens,  where  carnations  from  Damascus  and 
other  rare  plants  from  the  East  blossomed  among  the 

1  F.  Sansovino,  Venetia,  369. 

108 


THE    GARDENS   OF   VENICE 

roses  and  lilies,  the  citron  and  orange  trees.  The  deli- 
cious verdure  of  the  lawns  round  Benedetto  Cornaro's 
house,  in  Pietro  Aretino's  words,  "  surpassed  all  the 
splendours  of  this  favoured  shore,"  while  the  same 
writer  extols  the  gardens  of  the  scholar-printer  Fran- 
cesco Marcolini  in  the  same  impassioned  language. 
Marcolini  himself  was  a  very  remarkable  man,  the 
chosen  friend  of  Titian,  of  Bembo,  and  Sansovino, 
excellent  alike  as  goldsmith,  architect,  printer,  and  poet. 
He  was  called  in  to  alter  the  works  of  the  clock  on  the 
tower  of  S.  Stefano,  and  in  1545  Sansovino  employed 
him  to  design  the  wooden  bridge  at  Murano,  which 
was  only  removed  twenty-eight  years  ago.  That  he 
was  a  good  gardener,  too,  we  learn  from  the  Aretine, 
who  declares  that  in  the  summer  heat,  Marcolini's  villa 
on  the  Giudecca  was  the  most  enchanting  place  in  the 
whole  world. 

"  Where  else  can  you  find  deeper  and  cooler  shades, 
more  fragrant  flowers,  where  else  can  you  listen  to  the 
songs  of  endless  birds  which,  with  their  Petrarchian 
music,  refresh  the  weary  soul  and  charm  the  tired 
senses  to  sleep  ?  "  1 

In  this  same  quarter  of  the  Giudecca  was  the  villa 
of  Sante  Cattaneo,  with  its  stately  columns  and  marble 
halls  after  the  style  represented  in  Bonifazio's  well- 
known  painting  of  "L'Epulone,"  or  the  parable  of 

1  Letterc,  i.  107  ;  v.  122. 
109 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Dives  and  Lazarus.  A  long  marble  colonnade  led 
to  a  paved  courtyard  surrounded  with  fountains  and 
grottoes  enriched  with  shells  and  corals,  and  at  the 
end  of  the  garden  was  a  pillared  loggia,  decorated 
with  landscapes  by  the  best  Venetian  painters  and 
commanding  a  superb  view  of  the  lagoon  towards 
Chioggia.  "Thus,"  writes  Martinioni,  the  continu- 
ator  of  Sansovino,  "  you  are  able  at  the  same  moment 
to  enjoy  the  splendour  of  the  sea  and  the  beauties 
of  mountains,  woods,  and  flowers,  in  short  of  all  that 
pleases  both  the  eye  and  the  heart  of  man."  l 

On  the  opposite  side  of  Venice,  at  Birigrande,  in  the 
north-east  quarter  behind  the  great  Dominican  church 
of  S.  Giovanni  and  Paolo,  was  the  house  where  Titian 
lived  so  long.  There  the  great  master  received  his 
illustrious  patrons,  the  Dukes  of  Mantua  and  Ferrara, 
Cardinal  de  Granvelle,  the  Spanish  prelate  Pacheco,  and 
Henry  III,  the  last  of  the  Valois  kings.  There 
Isabella  d'Este  came,  still  full  of  vitality  in  spite  of 
her  declining  years,  to  examine  the  painter's  latest 
works  and  endeavour  to  secure  a  Magdalen  or  a 
S.  Jerome  for  her  studio.  In  the  summer  of  1534, 
her  son-in-law  and  daughter,  the  Duke  and  Duchess 
of  Urbino,  often  rowed  across  from  their  house  at 
Murano  to  visit  the  artist  and  give  him  sittings  for 
their  portraits.  Here,  more  than  thirty  years  after- 

1  F.  Sansovino,  Venetia^  370. 
IIO 


THE    GARDENS   OF   VENICE 

wards,  young  Giorgio  Vasari  came  from  Florence  and 
found  the  old  master  of  eighty-nine,  brush  and  palette 
in  hand,  still  painting  pictures  "worthy  of  immor- 
tality." The  delightful  situation  of  the  house,  the 
beauty  of  the  garden  along  the  edge  of  the  lagoon, 
have  been  praised  by  many  of  his  contemporaries,  but 
in  Titian's  eyes  its  greatest  charm  was  the  prospect 
which  it  commanded  over  the  mountains  of  Cadore. 
From  his  window  the  great  master  could  look  across 
the  open  lagoon  to  the  blue  hills  of  Ceneda,  and  on 
clear  days  could  see  the  sharp  peak  of  Antelao  rising 
above  his  native  home.  Here,  on  summer  evenings, 
he  loved  to  entertain  a  few  chosen  friends — Sansovino, 
the  great  Tuscan  architect,  who  had  fled  to  Venice 
after  the  sack  of  Rome  to  become  the  master-builder 
of  the  Republic  ;  the  Veronese  master,  Sanmichele  ;  the 
printer,  Marcolini;  the  wonderful  gem-cutter,  Lodovico 
Anichino,  and  the  witty  and  unscrupulous  Pietro 
Aretino — at  supper-parties,  which  lasted  far  on  into 
the  night.  The  Roman  grammarian,  Priscianese,  has 
left  us  a  graphic  picture  of  one  of  these  lively  enter- 
tainments, at  which  he  was  a  guest  : 

,"  On  the  first  of  August,  the  feast  of  Augustus,  now 
known  as  the  festival  of  the  Chains  of  S.  Peter,"  he 
writes,  "  I  was  invited  to  supper  in  a  most  beautiful 
garden,  belonging  to  Messer  Tiziano,  an  excellent 
painter,  as  all  the  world  knows,  and  a  person  whose 

ill 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

graceful  courtesy  would  lend  lustre  to  the  most 
splendid  banquet.  Several  other  remarkable  men 
were  present  on  this  occasion — Messer  Pietro  Aretino, 
that  miracle  of  nature ;  Jacopo  Tatti,  called  Sansovino, 
who  is  as  renowned  a  sculptor  as  our  host  is  a  painter ; 
and  Messer  Jacopo  Nardi.  The  heat  of  the  sun  was 
still  great,  although  the  garden  is  shady,  so,  while 
the  tables  were  being  carried  out  and  supper  laid,  we 
spent  our  time  in  looking  at  the  admirable  paintings 
which  adorn  the  house,  and  in  enjoying  the  rare  beauty 
and  delights  of  the  garden,  which  lies  on  the  sea-shore 
at  the  far  end  of  Venice,  looking  towards  the  lovely 
island  of  Murano  and  other  fair  places.  As  the  sun 
went  down,  the  lagoon  swarmed  with  gondolas  full  of 
beautiful  women,  and  the  sweet  sounds  of  musical 
instruments  and  singing  floated  over  the  water  and 
charmed  our  ears  as  we  sat  at  our  delightful  supper 
till  midnight.  The  garden  is  beautifully  laid  out,  and 
excites  universal  admiration.  The  supper  also  was 
most  excellent,  rich  in  choice  viands  and  rare  wines. 
In  short,  nothing  was  lacking  which  could  heighten 
the  charm  of  the  summer,  evening  and  the  pleasure 
of  the  company.  The  fruit  had  just  been  placed  on 
the  table  when  your  letter  came,  and  Aretino's  wrath 
was  excited  by  your  assertion  of  the  superior  excellence 
of  the  Latin  tongue.  He  called  for  ink  and  paper, 
and  was  with  difficulty  restrained  from  committing  his 
fierce  invectives  to  writing.  And  so  the  supper  ended, 
as  gaily  as  it  began  !  "  l 

The    garden    in    which    Titian    gave    these    joyous 
supper-parties  has  been  built  over,  and  the  noble  tree 
1  Priscianese,  Delia  lingua  romana,  Ticozzi  Dizionario^  iv.  79. 
112 


THE   GARDENS   OF   VENICE 

which  he  introduced  into  his  altar-piece  of  S.  Pietro 
Martire,  and  which   was  still  standing   fifty   or  sixty 
years  ago,  has  been  cut  down.     But  another  charming 
garden    in   this   quarter    still    remains,    and    has    been 
little  changed  since  the  days  of  Titian  and  Aretino. 
It  belongs  to  the  Villa  Contarini  del  Zaffo,  so  called 
because  its  owners  were  patrons  of  the  galley  which 
yearly  bore  pilgrims  for  the  Holy  Land  to  the  port 
of  Jaffa.     This  house  was  the  birthplace  of  Gaspare 
Contarini,    the    distinguished    scholar    and    statesman, 
whom  his  friend  Bembo  justly  called  the  pillar  of  the 
Church  and  the   brightest  ornament  of  the   Republic, 
who  to  the  joy  of  his  fellow-citizens  was  in  his  last 
days  made    a    Cardinal    by    the    enlightened    Farnese 
Pope,  Paul  III.     The   Cardinal's   portrait   still  hangs 
in  the  salone  of  the  villa,  with  vhe  finely  painted  roof, 
and  his  bust  adorns  the  family  chapel  where  his  ashes 
rest,  in  the  neighbouring  church  of  the  Madonna  del 
Orto.     The  garden    of   Villa    Contarini,  which   three 
hundred    years   ago    was    one    of  the   most  beautiful 
in    Venice,    has    been    carefully    reconstructed    by   its 
present  owners    on    the    lines  of  the   original  design, 
and  affords  a  typical  example  of  a  Venetian  Renaissance 
garden.     The  formal  parterres  are  divided  by  yew  and 
hornbeam    hedges,    and    adorned    with   fountains    and 
red  brick  exedra,  and  at  the  end  of  the  cypress  avenues 

three    gateways    with    finely    moulded    pilasters    and 

113  H 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

cornices  open  on  to  the  blue  lagoon.     Through  these 
arched  portals  we  look  out  across  the  shining  waters  to 
the  white  towers  and  dark  cypresses  of  San  Michele, 
and  the  distant  furnaces  of  Murano.     In  one  corner 
of  the  gardens  stands  the  Casa  degli  Spiriti,  a  pavilion 
where    festive  gatherings  were  held   in   days   of  old, 
and  the  midnight  echoes  of  the  revellers'  voices,  borne 
across    the  waters,    gave   rise  to  the   legend  that  the 
house  was  haunted.     As  we  look  from  the  steps  of 
Villa  Contarini  at  the  dense  cloud  of  smoke  rising  from 
the  chimneys  of  Murano  on  the  opposite  shore,  it  is 
difficult   to  realise  that  this  island   was  once  famous 
for  its  sumptuous  pleasure-houses  and  gardens.     Yet 
so  it  was  in  the  days  of  Gaspare  Contarini  and  Pietro 
Bembo,    of    Titian    and    Aretino.     Then    poets    and 
travellers  alike  extolled  Murano  as  the  most  delightful 
place    in   the   world,   dear  above    all  to   scholars    and 
thinkers,  and  meet  to  be  the   home  of  nymphs  and 
goddesses.       They    praised    its    balmy    breezes    and 
sparkling  fountains,  its  fields    of  musk  and    damask 
roses,  of  violets  and  narcissus,  its  groves  of  citron  and 
orange,  and  beds  of  sweet-smelling  mint,  of  rosemary 
and  lavender. 


"  Much  more/'  exclaims  Casola,  "  might  be  said 
of  Murano,  and  of  its  thousand  delights,  and  how  the 
island  is  surrounded  by  waters  and  has  the  most 

114 


THE    GARDENS   OF   VENICE 

beautiful  gardens  in  Venice,  but  I  will  leave  something 
for  others  writers  to  tell." 1 

A  few  months  before  the  Milanese  Canon  wrote 
these  words,  Murano  was  the  scene  of  a  splendid 
fete  given  by  Caterina  Cornaro,  Queen  of  Cyprus,  in 
her  villa  gardens,  in  honour  of  Beatrice  d'Este,  the 
young  Duchess  of  Milan,  whose  coming  as  her  lord's 
ambassador  was  celebrated  with  great  honour  by  the 
Doge  and  Signory.  And  in  the  same  year  Queen 
Caterina  received  Beatrice's  sister,  the  Marchesana 
Isabella,  when  she  paid  her  first  visit  to  Venice  at 
Ascension-tide,  and  showed  this  accomplished  lady 
the  rare  flowers  and  fruits  that  were  sent  her  from 
Cyprus.  When,  seventeen  years  afterwards,  Caterina 
died,  and  was  buried  with  due  pomp  in  the  church 
of  the  Apostoli,  the  funeral  oration  was  pronounced 
by  an ,  eloquent  young  Venetian  patrician,  Andrea 
Navagero,  who  was  one  of  her  neighbours  at  Murano. 
This  fine  scholar  and  distinguished  public  servant,  who 
held  the  office  of  Librarian  and  Historiographer  to  the 
Republic  of  Venice,  and  went  as  Ambassador  to  Spain 
and  France,  had  a  passionate  love  of  gardening.  There 
was  a  vein  of  melancholy  in  his  nature  which  made 
him  sigh  for  peace  and  repose  in  the  midst  of  his  political 
labours,  and  escape,  whenever  he  had  a  chance,  from 
the  din  and  turmoil  of  the  city  to  enjoy  the  rural 
1.Casola,  142. 
"5 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

delights  dear  to  his  soul.  It  was  "  to  please  Messer 
Andrea "  that  Bembo  and  Castiglione  joined  Raphael 
and  their  Venetian  friends  one  spring  morning,  and 
went  on  a  memorable  excursion  to  Tivoli,  there 
to  explore  the  ruins  of  Hadrian's  villa,  and  walk  by 
the  rushing  waters  of  Arno,  in  the  dewy  orchards  sung 
by  the  Latin  poet.  And  Navagero  was  never  so  happy 
as  when  he  could  spend  a  week  with  one  or  two 
chosen  friends  in  his  own  garden  at  Murano.  Here 
he  devoted  himself  to  the  cultivation  of  flowers  and 
plants  with  the  same  ardour  which  he  showed  in  the 
study  of  letters,  and  clipped  his  yews  and  pruned  his 
roses  as  carefully  as  he  composed  his  Latin  verses  or 
edited  Virgil  or  Lucretius  for  the  Aldine  Press.  An 
eloquent  description  of  Messer  Andrea's  garden  has 
been  left  us  by  Christophe  Longueil,  the  Flemish  scholar, 
who  was  driven  by  the  jealousy  of  the  Roman  scholars 
at  Leo  X's  Court  to  take  refuge  at  Padua. 

"  I  have  been  at  Venice  for  a  fortnight,"  wrote 
Longolio,  as  he  was  called  by  his  Italian  friends,  to 
Bembo  in  June  1 520,  "  and  spent  a  week  of  the  greatest 
enjoyment  with  our  dear  friend,  Messer  Andrea 
Navagero,  in  his  country  house  at  Murano.  The 
garden  belonging  to  this  villa  was  a  very  pleasant  sight, 
since  all  the  trees  in  the  orchard  and  plantations  are 
laid  out  in  the  form  of  a  quincunx." 

This  method  of  planting  trees,  to  which  Sir  Thomas 
Browne  alludes  as  "the  quinquncal  lozenge  in  use 

116 


THE   GARDENS   OF   VENICE 

among  the  ancients,"  consisted  in  setting  trees  in 
a  square  with  a  fifth  in  the  centre,  and  repeating  this 
device  again  and  again,  so  that  whichever  way  you 
turned  your  eyes,  parallel  alleys  might  be  seen. 

"  All  the  trees  and  hedges,"  the  writer  continues, 
"are  clipped  in  different  shapes,  and  are  exquisite 
examples  of  topiary  art.  The  sight  indeed  greatly 
exceeded  my  highest  expectations.  The  apple  trees 
are  all  planted  in  regular  rows,  at  discreet  intervals, 
and  have  grown  with  amazing  rapidity,  since  they  were 
put  in  the  ground  by  our  Navagero  himself,  only  a 
few  months  ago.  Nothing  could  be  more  beautiful 
in  shape  and  colour,  nothing  sweeter  in  smell  and 
taste,  or  more  excellent  in  size  and  variety,  than  the 
fruit  which  this  orchard  bears.  For  Messer  Andrea, 
as  you  know,  takes  the  greatest  delight  in  rural  pursuits, 
and  is  more  industrious  than  most  agriculturists,  devot- 
ing the  same  diligence  and  careful  attention  to  his 
garden  that  he  does  to  our  own  art."  1 

In  his  reply,  Bembo  expressed  the  greatest  satis- 
faction at  Longolio's  account  of  Messer  Andrea  and 
his  garden. 

"  What  you  wrote  of  Navagero,"  he  says,  "  was  very 
pleasing  to  me.  The  man  is  admirable,  because  he 
does  not  cultivate  learning  and  gardening  in  solitude, 
but  shares  both  his  studies  and  rural  pleasures  with  his 
friends.  I  am  delighted  to  hear  that  he  is  spending 
the  summer  in  his  garden  at  Murano,  and  feel  no 

1  C.  Longolio,  EpistolcB,  i.  108. 
117 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

doubt  that  much  fruit  will  spring  from  those  joyous 
days  passed  in  the  shade  of  the  citron-trees  which 
he  brought  from  the  shores  of  Benacus."  1 

Six  years  later,  in  April  1526,  during  Navagero's 
absence  in  Spain,  Bembo  himself  visited  the  villa  at 
Murano,  and  addressed  the  following  letter  to  his 
generous  host : 

"  I  have  been  staying  for  the  last  fortnight  in  your 
own  pleasant  villa,  at  the  invitation  of  our  Ramusio  " 
— the  son-in-law  and  intimate  friend  of  Messer  Andrea 
— "  and  have  enjoyed  myself  so  much  that  I  am  quite 
sorry  to  go.  We  have  talked  of  you  very  often,  as 
you  may  imagine,  in  the  most  affectionate  terms.  I 
rejoice  to  hear  the  great  and  singular  renown  which 
you  have  acquired  on  this  your  first  foreign  embassy. 
Every  one  praises  you  so  much  that  I  can  only  say, 
*  Go  on  as  you  have  begun,  and  you  may  be  sure  that 
the  State  will  be  grateful  to  you,  and  that  you  will  be 
remembered  in  days  to  come,  not  only  as  a  great  and 
illustrious  citizen,  but  as  having  had  no  equal  among 
the  servants  of  the  Republic/  Keep  well  and  remember 
me  to  our  dear  Messer  Baldassare  Castiglione.  From 
your  Murano.  April  7,  1526."  2 

In  another  letter,  addressed  to  Gian  Battista  Ramusio, 
his  dear  and  too  courteous  friend,  Bembo  thanks 
Heaven  that  Messer  Andrea  has  escaped  the  perils  of  the 
sea  and  reached  Spain  in  safety. 

1  P.  Bembo,  EpistoLfam.}  v.  201. 

8  Lettere  famigliari  di  M.  Pietro  Bembo ',  ii.  112. 

118 


THE   GARDENS   OF   VENICE 

"I  see,"  he  adds,  "that  this  pilgrimage  will  be 
pleasant  to  him,  if  only  it  enables  him  to  discover  new 
plants  and  other  rare  things,  and  as  he  says  himself,  I 
am  sure  that  he  will  return  laden  with  them."  1 

The  letters  which  Navagero  wrote  to  his  son-in-law 
during  his  absence,  abound  in  descriptions  of  the 
wonderful  gardens  which  he  saw  in  Spain,  and  which 
he  confesses  are  even  more  beautiful  than  those  in 
Italy.  The  Moorish  Alcazar  at  Seville  seemed  to  him 
the  most  perfect  of  summer  palaces,  and  its  lovely 
patio,  planted  with  shady  orange  and  lemon  trees,  and 
watered  with  running  streams  from  marble  fountains, 
was  the  most  delicious  place  which  he  had  ever  seen. 
In  company  with  his  noble  friend,  Count  Baldassare, 
he  visited  the  gardens  of  the  Certosa  on  the  banks  of 
the  Guadalquivir ;  and  as  they  lingered  in  the  pillared 
loggia  among  myrtle  groves  fragrant  with  the  scent  of 
roses,  he  envied  the  fortunate  Carthusian  friars  who 
need  only  leave  these  enchanted  regions  to  go  to 
Paradise.  From  Granada  he  wrote  glowing  descrip- 
tions of  the  Alhambra  halls  and  the  Court  of  Lions, 
with  its  marvellous  tiles  and  myrtle  trellis,  "  a  place," 
he  remarked,  "  where  it  is  always  cool  and  fresh  on  the 
hottest  day."  Leaving  the  Alhambra  by  a  little  door, 
he  and  Castiglione  climbed  the  heights  of  the 
Generalife,  and  sat  in  a  balcony  cut  out  of  the  myrtle 

1  Cicogna,  Iscrizioni^  vi.  305. 
119 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

grove,  watching  the  rabbits  peeping  out  of  the  bushes, 
and  looking  down  on  the  foaming  waters  of  the  Dario 
in  the  gorge  below. 

"  Nothing  is  lacking,"  wrote  Messer  Andrea,  "  to 
complete  the  charm  and  perfection  of  this  spot,  save 
the  presence  of  a  scholar  who  would  enjoy  its  beauty. 
Such  a  man  might  live  here  in  peace  and  quietness, 
engaged  in  those  studies  that  would  make  him  happy, 
and  in  which  he  would  be  content  to  spend  the  rest  of 
his  life,  careless  of  wealth  or  fame." 

The  quarters  occupied  by  the  Ambassadors  at 
Granada  were  in  the  upper  city,  which  was  still  inhabited 
by  the  Moors,  whose  carefully  cultivated,  well-watered 
gardens  filled  Messer  Andrea  with  admiration.  But 
the  period  of  forty  years'  grace,  granted  them  by  the 
conquerors,  had  almost  expired,  and  in  a  few  months 
the  Inquisition  was  to  be  set  up  in  Granada.  Already 
many  of  the  wealthier  Moors  were  gone  to  Africa,  and 
the  kind-hearted  Venetian  looked  with  a  sigh  at  these 
gardens  of  myrtle  and  musk  roses,  and  thought  sorrow- 
fully of  the  doom  which  hung  over  them. 

But  none  of  these  brilliant  and  varied  scenes  could 
make  Navagero  forget  his  own  gardens  at  Murano  and 
Selve,  his  other  villa  in  the  Trevigiana  district. 

"  Sweetest  Ramusio,"  he  wrote  from  Toledo,  "I  care 
more  for  my  gardens  at  Murano  and  Selve  than  for 

1  Navagero,  Viaggio  in  Spagna,  20-25. 
1 2O 


THE    GARDENS    OF    VENICE 

anything  else  in  the  world.  You  will  wonder  that  I 
have  time  to  think  of  them  in  the  midst  of  all  my 
labours,  but  I  am  a  true  Epicurean  and  should  like  to 
spend  my  whole  life  in  a  garden.  Therefore,  as  you 
love  me,  dear  Ramusio,  take  care  of  these  beloved 
groves  while  I  am  absent  from  home,  for  this  is  the 
truest  service  that  you  can  render  me." l 

No  joy  is  greater,  he  often  repeats,  than  to  receive 
his  son-in-law's  letters,  at  the  end  of  a  long  and  tedious 
journey,  and  to  hear  how  his  trees  and  plants  are  doing. 
From  Barcelona  he  sent  some  caronba  trees  to  be 
planted  at  Murano,  and  from  Seville  he  forwarded 
seeds  of  sweet  orange  and  of  a  flowering  shrub  called 
ladano,  with  a  blossom  between  a  cistus  and  a  white 
rose,  as  well  as  some  curious  roots  called  batate,  which 
had  lately  been  brought  from  the  Indies,  and  were 
good  to  eat,  tasting  something  like  chestnuts.  There 
was  also  a  new  and  delicious  fruit,  apparently  a  banana, 
not  unlike  a  melon,  but  with  a  flavour  that  was  some- 
thing between  a  quince  and  a  peach,  of  which  Navagero 
sent  home  specimens,  together  with  a  beautiful  dead 
bird — called  a  bird  of  paradise,  also  from  the  New 
World — which  was  to  be  given  to  Gaspare  Comarini. 
There  are  frequent  allusions  in  these  letters  to  a 
certain  Frate  Francesco,  who  seems  to  have  been  his 
head  gardener  and  had  charge  of  both  his  gardens  in 

his  absence. 

1  D.  Atanagi,  Letter e,  676. 
121 


X 

ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

"  Tell  the  Friar,"  he  writes,  "  that  new  trees  must 
be  planted  in  the  grove  at  Murano,  and  let  him  take 
care  to  see  that  they  are  placed  in  formal  rows  at  some 
interval,  and  above  all,  let  him  put  in  plenty  of  roses 
between  the  grove  and  the  boundary  wall,  and  see  that 
they  are  trained  to  grow  on  a  trellis,  after  the  fashion 
which  I  admire  in  Spain.  And  see  that  in  the  autumn 
he  goes  to  Selva,  to  see  how  the  laurels  are  growing, 
and  if  the  fruit  trees  have  done  better  than  they  did 
last  year.  And  I  beg  of  you,  my  dear  Ramusio,  to 
adorn  your  own  villa  with  fair  trees,  so  that  when  I 
return  home  we  may  enjoy  what  remains  to  us  of  life 
with  our  books  in  the  shade  of  our  own  groves." 

But  the  peace  and  leisure  for  which  the  scholar-poet 
yearned  never  came.  At  the  end  of  four  years  he  at 
length  returned  to  his  beloved  home,  but  he  had  hardly 
set  foot  on  Venetian  soil  than  he  received  orders  to  go  to 
France  as  Ambassador  to  King  Francis  I.  Before  he  had 
been  at  the  French  Court  three  months  he  fell  ill  of 
fever  and  died  at  Blois  on  the  8th  of  May,  1529,  to  the 
infinite  grief  of  his  friends  in  Venice.  He  was  buried 
by  his  own  wish  in  the  church  of  S.  Martina  at  Mur- 
ano, in  a  grave  touching  the  garden  which  he  loved. 
Poets  and  scholars  lamented  him  in  elegant  Latin 
verse,  and  Sadoleto  linked  Messer  Andrea's  name  with 
that  of  his  friend  Castiglione  in  a  memorable  letter, 
deploring  the  heavy  loss  which  Italy  had  sustained 


1  Atanagi,  668. 
122 


THE   GARDENS   OF   VENICE 

by  the  death  of  two  of  her  noblest  sons.1  "  Poor 
Navagero,"  wrote  Bembo,  "  was  a  most  rare  being,  who 
could  not  fail  to  do  honour  to  his  country.  If  he  had 
been  an  ignorant  fool,  he  would  have  lived."  2 

Another  distinguished  friend  of  Navagero  and 
Bembo,  who  owned  a  villa  at  Murano,  was  Trifone 
Gabriele,  whom  Ariosto  calls  the  "  new  Socrates."  So 
great  was  his  reputation  for  learning  that  at  the 
prayer  of  Cardinal  Pole  and  Bembo,  the  Pope  released 
him  from  a  rash  vow  made  in  early  youth  to  take 
priest's  orders,  and  abandon  the  study  of  pagan 
literature.  Trifone  would  never  accept  any  office  or 
preferment  from  the  State,  and  when  he  was  offered 
the  Patriarchate  of  Venice,  replied  in  the  following 
words : 

"  Siano  degli  altre  le  mitre  e  le  corone, 
Rura  mihi  et  rigus  placeant  in  vellibus  anmes." 

He  loved  the  woods  and  waters  of  his  villa  in  the 
green  Euganean  hills,  and  planted  pergolas  of  rose  and 
honeysuckle,  vines  and  jessamine  in  his  garden  at 
Murano.  Here,  in  the  happy  days  before  Messer 
Andrea  was  sent  abroad,  he  and  Trifone  studied  the 
MS.  of  Bembo's  Prose ',  and  revised  the  text  of  the  classics 
which  they  edited  for  Aldus.  Like  Navagero,  Trifone 
shared  his  good  things  freely  with  poorer  scholars,  and 
threw  open  his  gardens  to  the  members  of  the  Aldine 
1  Sadoleto,  Epist.fam.,  106.  2  Lettere,  v.  65. 

123 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Academy.  When,  in  1525,  the  Vicentine  poet,  Gian- 
giorgio  Trissino,  came  to  Venice  as  Papal  Legate,  he 
took  a  house  in  the  parish  of  San  Donato  at  Murano, 
and  spent  much  of  his  time  in  Trifone's  society.  On 
summer  mornings  the  Legate  would  join  the  youthful 
scholars  who  met  daily  at  Trifone's  villa,  and  held 
learned  converse  with  them  in  his  friend's  garden,  or 
in  those  of  Navagero  and  Alvise  Priuli.  These  dis- 
cussions were  often  prolonged  to  a  late  hour,  and  after 
vespers  the  enthusiastic  band  of  scholars  might  still  be 
seen  pacing  up  and  down  the  shores  of  the  lagoon, 
drinking  in  every  word  that  fell  from  their  teacher's 
lips. 

But  even  Murano  could  not  satisfy  the  new  passion 
for  rural  delights  which  had  sprung  up  among  these 
(Venetian  humanists.  They  sought  the  hills  and 
\forests  of  the  mainland,  the  "  Marca  Amorosa "  of 
Treviso,  the  mountain  region  of  Castelfranco  under 
the  dolomite  peaks  which  Gian  Bellini  and  Cima  were 
never  tired  of  painting,  where  Giorgione  was  born  and 
Titian  had  his  home.  Or  they  settled  in  the  pleasant 
district  of  the  Euganean  hills,  where  Arqua  and 
Monselice  and  half  a  dozen  other  bright  little  towns 
nestle  among  the  woods.  Trifone  Gabriele  found  the 
seclusion  which  he  loved  in  his  villa  at  Ronchi,  and 
Bembo  spent  the  happiest  years  of  his  life  in  his 

"  dolce  Noniano"  that  delightful  country-house  between 

124 


THE    GARDENS   OF   VENICE 

Padua  and  Cittadella,  far  from  the  noise  and  smoke 
of  Rome.  Farther  still  from  Venice,  in  the  distant  hills 
of  Friuli,  Bembo's  kinsman,  Giorgio  Grademigo,  spent 
the  happiest  days  of  his  life  in  a  villa  at  Cividale. 

"  Oh,  how  I  enjoy  my  summer  here  !  "  he  writes.  "  I 
spend  the  whole  evening,  until  two  hours  after  sunset, 
walking  about  the  fields,  and  the  dawn  of  day  never 
finds  me  in  my  bed.  For  at  Cividale  the  sky  is  bluer, 
and  the  sun  and  stars  seem  to  me  to  shine  more  brightly 
than  in  any  other  place  on  earth.  Sickness  is  unknown 
there,  and  melancholy  flies  away."  * 

A  curious  treatise  on  Venetian  villas  was  written  by 
the  Florentine  Antonio  Doni,  originally  a  Servite  friar, 
who  gave  up  his  vows  and  sought  refuge  in  Venice, 
where  he  became  intimate  with  several  of  the  above- 
named  scholars,  and  spent  his  last  years  in  a  villa  at 
Monselice.  The  writer  divides  Venetian  country- 
houses  into  four  classes — first,  the  superb  palaces  laid 
out  on  a  vast  scale  by  wealthy  patricians,  with  frescoed 
halls  and  colonnades,  chapel  and  cloisters ;  secondly, 
the  more  modest  villas,  where  tired  officials  and  over- 
worked scholars  sought  repose  and  leisure  in  the  brief 
intervals  which  they  could  snatch  from  their  public 
duties;  thirdly,  the  houses  and  estates  bought  by 
merchants  as  a  profitable  investment ;  and  fourthly,  the 
podere  cultivated  by  farmers  and  peasants,  who  made 
a  living  out  of  the  soil.  The  villas  of  Bembo  and 

1  L.  Dolce,  Lettere,  ii.  467. 
125 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Trifone  were  good  instances  of  the  second  class,  while 
a  splendid  example  of  the  first  class  is  still  to  be  seen 
in  the  palatial  Villa  Maser,  which  the  Barbaro  brothers 
employed  Palladio  to  rear  on  a  spur  of  the  Julian 
Alps,  and  brought  Paolo  Veronese  and  his  pupils  to 
adorn  with  frescoes  that  are  still  in  existence. 

On  the  heights  of  Asolo,  in  the  dolomite  country, 
was  the  stately  home  where  the  widowed  Queen  of 
Cyprus,  Caterina  Cornaro,  held  her  court,  and  made 
the  foremost  poets  and  scholars  of  the  day  welcome. 
The  massive  tower  of  her  Castello  still  rises  above  the 
picturesque  streets  of  the  old  mountain  town,  and 
from  its  battlements  we  look  down  through  a  tangled 
mass  of  briar-rose  and  acacia  on  the  Lombard  plain 
stretching  far  away  to  the  wide  horizon.  Little  is 
left  to-day  of  these  wonderful  gardens  where  courtiers 
and  maidens  sang  and  danced,  and  talked  of  love  and 
poetry  through  the  long  summer  days,  but  Bembo 
has  given  us  some  idea  of  their  beauty  in  the  poem  of 
Gil  Asolani,  which  he  wrote  in  the  first  years  of 
the  new  century,  and  dedicated  to  the  Duchess 
Lucrezia.  In  language  recalling  Boccaccio's  immortal 
prose,  the  young  Venetian  has  told  us  how  he  arrived 
at  this  "  vago  e  piacevole  Castello  "  standing  on  a  far 
ridge  of  the  Alps,  above  the  Trevigiana,  when  the 
marriage-feast  of  one  of  the  Queen's  maidens  was 

being  celebrated.     The  wedding  was  over,  the  guests 

126 


Phoio  :  Anderson,  Koine. 

CATERINA  CORNARO,   QUEEN   OF  CYPRUS 
(After  Titian) 


THE   GARDENS   OF   VENICE 

were  gone,  the  Queen  had  retired  to  her  rooms,  and 
of  all  the  company  three  youths  and  three  maidens 
remained  sitting  in  the  marble  loggia.  And  "since 
sleeping  after  meals  is  not  healthy,  and  the  summer 
days  were  too  good  to  be  wasted  in  slumber,"  one  of 
the  cavaliers,  Gismondo,  proposed  that  they  should  go 
out  into  the  gardens  and  tell  each  other  stories,  resting 
on  the  grassy  lawns.  His  companions  agreed  gladly, 
and  the  speaker  led  the  way. 

"  The  garden,"  continues  Bembo,  "  was  of  rare  and 
marvellous  beauty.  A  wide  and  shady  pergola  of 
vines  ran  down  the  centre,  and  the  walls  on  either 
side  were  concealed  by  thick  hedges  of  box  and 
juniper,  while  laurels  arching  overhead  afforded  the 
most  refreshing  shade,  and  were  all  so  carefully  cut 
and  trimmed  that  not  a  single  leaf  was  out  of  place. 
None  of  the  walls  could  be  seen,  only  at  the  end  of 
the  pergola,  above  the  garden  gate,  two  windows  of 
dazzling  white  marble  let  in  a  view  of  the  distant 
plains.  Down  this  fair  pathway  the  little  troop 
walked,  sheltered  by  the  dense  foliage  from  the  fiery 
rays  of  the  sun,  until  they  reached  a  little  meadow 
at  the  end  of  the  garden.  Here  the  grass  was  as 
fine  in  colour  as  an  emerald,  and  all  manner  of  bright 
flowers  sprang  up  on  the  fresh  green  sward,  and  just  be- 
yond was  a  shady  grove  of  laurels,  not  clipped  or  trained 
like  the  others,  but  allowed  to  wander  at  will.  In 
their  midst  was  a  beautiful  fountain,  from  which  a  jet 
of  clear  water  from  the  mountain-side  fell  with  joyous 
sound  into  a  marble  basin,  and  thence  flowed  in  gently 

127 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

murmuring  rills  over  the  whole  garden.  Here  the 
fair  maid  Berenice  paused.  '  Madonna,1  said  her 
cavalier  Gismondo,  '  shall  we  rest  awhile  ?  We  could 
hardly  find  a  more  delicious  spot,  for  here  the  grass  is 
greener  and  the  flowers  are  gayer  than  anywhere  else. 
The  trees  will  shelter  us  from  the  sun,  and  the  murmur 
of  the  running  waters  and  the  romantic  charm  of  these 
shades  will  dispose  each  of  you  to  talk  of  what  you 
like  best,  while  we  will  gladly  listen.'  So  the  three 
youths  and  three  maidens  sat  down  in  a  circle  on  the 
lawn,  on  the  banks  of  the  stream  flowing  from  the 
fountain  in  the  laurel  grove,  and  sang  love  songs  and 
recited  verses.  And  Berenice  told  the  old  tale  of  Dido, 
and  Gismondo  sang  the  praise  of  Love,  saying,  that  as 
in  spring  the  air  is  full  of  light  and  song,  and  woods  and 
valleys,  mountains  and  rivers  all  laugh  for  joy,  so  when 
Love  takes  hold  of  the  heart  our  looks  and  thoughts 
are  full  of  rapture,  and  the  whole  being  of  man 
rejoices.  So  the  day  wore  on  in  light  and  happy 
converse  until  the  trumpet  gave  the  signal  for  renewed 
feasting  and  dancing,  and  youths  and  maidens  rose,  not 
without  a  sigh,  to  return  to  the  palace." 

t 

Another  famous  villa  in  this  same  district  of  Asolo, 

"  on  the  borders  of  La  Magna,"  was  that  of  Messer 
Alvise  Priuli  at  Treville.  This  ricca  e  grandissima  casa, 
worthy  as  Bembo  wrote,  of  the  noble  owner,  was  built 
by  Palladio,  and  adorned  with  frescoes  by  the  Tuscan 
master,  Francesco  Salviati.  The  interior  was  furnished 
in  the  richest  style,  the  polished  marble  floors  shone 

1  GK  Asolani,  6-8. 
128 


THE    GARDENS   OF   VENICE 

like  mirrors,  the  bedsteads  and  chairs  were  carved 
and  painted,  the  carpets  and  hangings  were  of  costly 
Oriental  stuffs.  In  the  words  of  the  poet  Calmo, 
"  This  was  a  palace  where  a  monarch  might  fitly 
make  his  home,  and  Jove  himself  might  worthily  be 
received."  Priuli's  lifelong  friend,  Cardinal  Pole,  was 
often  his  guest  at  Treville,  "  and  wrote  many  letters  to 
Messer  Alvise" — ex  villa  tua.  "  This  angelic  spirit," 
as  Cardinal  Contarini  called  the  saintly  English  prelate, 
was  always  happy  in  the  country,  and  in  one  of  his 
letters  from  Treville,  he  says  that  he  may  well  call 
Priuli's  villa  "  a.  Paradise,  because  of  its  situation  in 
these  delicious  hills,  and  even  more  because  of  the 
friends  whose  company  I  am  enjoying."  When  Priuli 
came  in  his  turn  to  pay  the  Cardinal  a  visit  at  the 
monastery  of  Carpentras,  Pole  wrote  to  their  mutual 
friend,  saying  that  Messer  Alvise  was  most  diligent  in 
the  study  of  philosophy  and  agriculture,  and  thinks 
of  turning  horticulturist,  "  in  which  idea  he  is  en- 
couraged by  the  beautiful  garden  belonging  to  these 
good  Fathers,  and  their  truly  excellent  gardener."  * 

Another  interesting  Venetian,  like  Priuli,  the  friend  of 
Bembo  and  his  circle,  was  Alvise  Cornaro,  whose  Treatise 
on  the  Simple  Life  (La  Vita  Sobria)  became  first 
known  to  English  readers  through  Addison's  paper  in 
the  Spectator.  This  scholar  and  philosopher  lived  to  be 

1  Poli,  Ep.  ii.  162. 

129  i 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

over  a  hundred,  and  his  portrait,  painted  by  El  Greco  in 
extreme  old  age,  may  be  seen  in  the  National  Gallery, 
where  it  still  goes  by  the  name  of  a  "  St.  James."  He 
wrote  his  famous  book  at  the  age  of  eighty-three,  and 
describes  in  its  pages  how,  owing  to  careful  and  temperate 
habits,  he  has  kept  his  full  powers  of  body  and  mind,  and 
can  mount  a  horse  without  help,  and  enjoy  walking  and 
travelling,  and  take  part  in  the  pleasures  of  the  chase,  as 
if  he  were  still  in  the  prime  of  life.  A  wealthy  and  liberal 
patron  of  art,  Cornaro  had  a  fine  house  in  Padua,  close  to 
the  church  of  II  Santo,  which  he  built  in  1524,  from  the 
designs  of  the  Veronese  architect  Falconetto.  The 
painters  Domenico  Campagnolo  and  Girolamo  del  Santo, 
who  worked  with  Titian  in  the  Scuola  del  Santo  close 
by,  were  employed  to  decorate  the  interior,  and,  accord- 
ing to  Michieli,  the  painted  ceilings  were  executed  by 
Domenico  Veneziano  from  the  cartoons  of  Raphael. 
Unfortunately  this  once  splendid  Palazzo  has  now  been 
entirely  rebuilt,  and  all  that  remains  of  Messer  Alvise 
and  Falconetto's  creation  is  the  elegant  garden-house, 
with  its  open  loggia  and  charming  decorations  in  white 
stucco  and  fresco,  in  the  style  of  the  Vatican  Loggie. 
/  Besides  his  town  house,  Cornaro  built  two  fine  villas, 
I  the  one  at  Este  in  the  Euganean  hills,  the  other  at 
Codevigo  in  the  plains  near  the  mouth  of  the  Brenta. 
Their  venerable  owner  attributed  the  robust  health 

which  he  enjoyed  in  his  old  age  in  great  part  to  his  love 

130 


THE   GARDENS   OF   VENICE 

of  gardening  and  of  all  out-door  pursuits,  and  congratu- 
lated himself  that,  more  fortunate  than  most  of  his  con- 
temporaries, he  had  lived  long  enough  to  enjoy  the 
houses  which  he  had  built  and  the  gardens  which  he 
had  planted. 

"  Each  September  and  October,"  he  writes,  "  I 
spend  at  my  villa,  which  stands  in  the  most  beautiful 
part  of  the  Euganean  hills,  and  is  adorned  with  garden 
and  fountains  and  a  fine  loggia,  where  I  entertain  my 
friends,  and  occasionally  give  large  hunting-parties. 
Later  in  the  year  I  go  to  my  other  villa  in  the  plains 
at  Codevigo,  on  the  shores  of  the  Brenta.  This  house 
is  built  in  the  form  of  a  quadrangle,  with  the  river 
running  through  the  gardens,  andv  contains  ample 
accommodation  for  my  family  and  guests  as  well  as 
a  chapel  and  altars  for  the  worship  of  God."  * 

^\ 
Contemporary  Venetian  writers  describe  the  gardens 

of  Villa  Cornaro  at  Este,  as  being  among  the  finest  J 
of  their  kind.  They  wax  eloquent  over  the  pergolas 
and  fountains,  the  porticoes  and  antique  statues,  the 
urns  and  vases  with  which  the  grounds  were  adorned, 
and  the  excellent  grapes  and  wine  which  the  vineyards 
produced.  There  was  a  theatre  in  which  admirable 
concerts  were  given,  and  the  popular  actor  Ruzzante 
frequently  appeared  in  his  own  pastoral  comedies.2 
But  Messer  Alvise  was  above  all  a  practical  man. 

1  A.  Cornaro,  La  Vita  Sobria. 

2  Lovarini  in  LtArte^  ii.  199. 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

He  devoted  much  time  and  money  to  agricultural 
,  experiments,  and  introduced  the  system  of  the 
\  mezzadria  or  metayer  system  among  the  peasants  on 
his  estates,  with  the  happiest  results.  More  than 
this,  he  spent  large  sums  in  building  bridges,  making 
new  roads,  and  draining  the  marshes  of  the  Brenta, 
being  convinced  that  he  could  do  the  State  no  better 
service  than  to  reclaim  these  waste  lands  and 
make  them  fit  for  cultivation.  Happily,  Alvise 
Cornaro's  example  was  followed  by  many  of  his 
countrymen,  and  the  last  half  of  the  sixteenth  century 
witnessed  an  extraordinary  outburst  of  activity  in  this 
direction.  The  ever-increasing  passion  for  vi/leggiatura 
life  led  wealthy  patricians  to  build  pleasure-houses 
all  along  the  /shores  of  the  Brenta,  and  in  the 
course  of  the  next  hundred  years  this  fertile  district 
between  Padua  and  Mestre  became  practically  a 
suburb  of  Venice. 

When,  in  1574,  the  last  of  the  Valois  kings, 
Henry  III,  visited  Venice  on  his  return  from  Poland, 
he  was  lost  in  wonder  at  the  splendours  of  the 
palaces — luoghi  di  delizie — which  lined  the  banks  as  he 
rowed  down  the  Brenta  in  his  barge.  The  Palazzo 
Malcontenta,  where  the  royal  guest  was  entertained 
on  this  occasion,  was  built  for  the  Foscari  in  the 
sixteenth  century  by  Palladio,  and  decorated  with 
frescoes  by  the  painter  Zelotti.  Its  stately  Ionic 

132 


THE    GARDENS   OF    VENICE 

portico  commanded  a  superb  view  of  the  Alps,  and 
looked  down  on  a  piazza  surrounded  by  colonnades, 
which  rivalled  those  of  St.  Mark's.  The  memory  of 
the  fetes  given  by  the  Contarini  in  honour  of  the  French 
monarch  is  still  preserved  in  the  noble  frescoes  with 
which  Tiepolo  adorned  the  ceilings  of  the  villa  of 
Lions  at  Mira,  and  which  have  now  found  a  home 
in  the  Musee  Andre  in  Paris.  There  we  may  see 
the  long  procession  of  richly  decorated  barges  which 
used  once  to  float  down  the  stream,  and  the  delicious 
gardens  with  terraces  and  flights  of  steps  that  led  to 
the  pleasure-houses  along  its  banks.  The  Mocenigo 
family  owned  a  fine  villa  at  Dolo,  which  boasted  a 
facade  painted  by  Varotari,  while  the  palace  of  the 
Pisani  at  Stra  was  even  more  imposing,  with  its  vaulted 
halls  decorated  by  Tiepolo  and  its  vast  park  and 
gardens. 

To-day  all  these  splendours  have  vanished  like  a 
dream.  As  you  float  in  a  gondola  down  to  Brenta, 
between  banks  of  vivid  green,  under  a  sky  of  still 
more  radiant  blue,  ruinous  houses  crumbling  to  decay 
and  a  few  squalid  peasant  huts  are  the  only  buildings 
that  meet  the  eye.  The  glorious  loggia  of  Malcontenta 
is  a  mere  shell.  A  few  desolate  ilex  groves  and 
cypress  avenues  are  all  that  remain  of  the  once 
famous  gardens  at  Stra.  Here  and  there  you  see  a 
pair  of  ragged  black-eyed  children  peering  out 

133 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

between  the  delicate  marble  shafts  of  an  arched 
window,  and  a  pink  oleander  flowering  overhead. 
Further  on,  you  may  come  on  a  clump  of  cypresses 
and  a  carved  marble  bench  standing  in  the  midst  of 
a  field  of  young  wheat,  and  beyond  these  discover 
the  pillars  of  a  gateway  mossy  with  age,  bearing  the 
shields  and  armorial  bearings  of  some  ancient  family. 
But  the  hinges  of  the  gate  are  rusty  and  the  path 
through  the  cornfield  leads  nowhere.  A  profound 
melancholy  broods  over  the  scene.  Villas  and  gardens 
\  alike  have  vanished.  The  men  and  women  who 
lived  there  are  dead  and  gone.  Their  names,  even 
the  most  illustrious  among  them,  have  been  for- 
gotten, and  the  very  site  of  Bembo's  "  dolce  Noniano  " 
is  unknown.  Only  the  nightingales  which  charmed 
his  poet-soul  still  sing  in  the  silence  of  the  summer 
night,  and  the  roses  which  Navagero  loved  hang  in 
clusters  over  the  low  red  wall  of  the  lagoon.  Nature 
renews  her  youth,  and  year  by  year  the  spring  returns 
with  her  perennial  charm. 


'34 


CARDINAL  BEMBO  AND  HIS  VILLA 

"  Cur  valle  permutem  Sabina  Divitias  operosiores  ?  " 

HORACE. 

PIETRO  BEMBO  was  a  typical  Italian  humanist.  His 
whole  life  was  governed  by  two  ruling  passions — the 
love  of  letters  and  of  natural  beauty.  He  was  ambi- 
tious and  greedy  of  gain,  never  tired  of  accumulating 
lucrative  posts  and  rich  benefices,  but  wealth  and 
dignities  in  his  eyes  were  only  means  to  the  end  in 
view,  steps  in  the  ladder  to  the  attainment  of  that 
blessed  leisure  which  was  the  most  desirable  thing  on 
earth.  So  he  undertook  hard  and  distasteful  work, 
and  toiled  in  law-courts  and  offices,  that  he  might  gain 
the  power  to  be  idle  and  to  enjoy  Nature  and  his 
beloved  books  in  undisturbed  peace.  And  since  the 
only  way  in  which  a  poor  scholar  could  obtain  inde- 
pendence and  freedom  from  care  was  by  entering  the 
service  of  some  noble  patron,  he  went  to  the  Court  of 
Urbino  with  only  forty  ducats  in  his  pocket,  and,  in 
spite  of  the  remonstrances  of  his  relatives  and  friends, 
remained  there  several  years.  u  Let  them  say  what 
they  choose,"  he  wrote  to  his  brother  at  Venice,  "  they 
are  fools  who  think  themselves  wise  and  imagine  that 

135 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

they  can  manage  the  lives  of  others  better  than  their 
own.  You  need  not  be  afraid  that  the  charms  of  these 
ladies  will  make  me  forget  myself.  .  For  I  am  not  as 
great  a  fool  as  your  Solomons  would  make  out."  l 

The  issue  proved  him  to  have  been  right.  From 
Urbino  he  passed,  after  Duke  Guidobaldo's  death,  to 
Rome,  and  through  the  influence  of  his  friend  Giuliano 
de  Medici  became  secretary  to  Pope  Leo  X.  But 
wherever  he  was,  at  Ferrara  with  Duchess  Lucrezia,  or 
at  Urbino  with  Elisabetta  Gonzaga  and  Emilia  Pia, 
young  Bembo  was  never  so  happy  as  when  he  could 
escape  to  the  country  for  a  few  weeks.  "  I  write  to 
your  Highness,"  he  says  in  a  letter  to  Lucrezia  from 
Ercole  Strozzi's  villa,  "sitting  at  an  open  window, 
looking  out  on  the  sweet  and  fresh  landscape  and  com- 
mend myself  to  you  as  many  times  as  there  are  leaves 
in  the  garden." 2  In  the  Council  hall  at  Venice,  he 
confesses  that  he  sighed  for  a  little  shepherd's  hut  on 
the  Apennine  slopes,  whence  he  could  look  down  on 
the  towers  of  Urbino;  and  the  letters  of  his  adored 
Duchess  came  to  him  like  a  refreshing  breeze  from 
those  dear  hills.  This  passionate  delight  in  country 
sights  and  sounds,  in  the  song  of  the  first  nightingale 
and  the  coming  of  the  swallow,  in  the  daily  wonder  of 
sunrise  and  sunset,  and  the  miracle  of  the  spring, 

1  Lettere,  ii.  17.    The  quotations  from  Bembo's  Letters  are  taken 
from  the  edition  published  at  Verona  in  1552. 

2  Ibid.  iv.  1 1 6. 

136 


Photo:  Anderson,  Rome 


LUCRE/10    BORGIA,    DUCHESS    OF    FERRARA 
(Pinturicchio) 


CARDINAL    BEMBO    AND    HIS    VILLA 

breaks  out  perpetually  in  his  writings,  alike  in  prose 
and  poetry.  His  youthful  work,  Gli  Asolani,  which 
he  wrote  at  the  Court  of  Ferrara,  opens,  as  we 
have  seen,  with  a  charming  description  of  Queen 
Caterina's  palace  garden  on  the  heights  of  Asolo, 
with  its  close  -  clipped  hedges  and  marble  loggia 
looking  out  on  the  Lombard  plains.  In  his  Roman 
days,  we  know  how  keenly  Messer  Pietro  enjoyed  ex- 
cursions into  the  Campagna,  and  how  he  rode  out  to 
Tivoli  with  Raphael  and  Count  Baldassare  and  the 
Venetian  patrician  Andrea  Navagero,  to  see  all  that 
was  worth  seeing,  both  new  and  old.  And  in  the  last 
years  of  his  long  life,  it  was  still  the  aged  Cardinal's 
greatest  pleasure  to  take  a  walk  outside  the  Porta  del 
Popolo,  under  the  wooded  slopes  of  Monte  Mario. 

But  the  place  which  Bembo  loved  best  in  the  world 
was  his  own  villa,  in  the  district  of  Cittadella  near 
Padua — "  la  mia  dilettevola  villetta  nel  Padovano"  as  he 
calls  it  repeatedly  in  his  correspondence.  This  was  a 
country  house  in  the  parish  of  Santa  Maria  di  Non,  not 
far  from  Castelfranco  and  Asolo,  which  took  its  name 
of  Villa  Bozza  from  a  former  owner,  a  valiant  soldier 
of  fortune,  known  as  Bozza  da  Nona.  It  stood  in  the 
midst  of  pleasant  gardens  and  meadows,  watered  by  the 
river  Brenta  and  its  tributary,  the  Piovego,  a  small 
stream  that  flowed  under  the  villa  windows.  About 
1475  tnis  litt:le  property  was  bought  by  Pietro's  father, 
Bernardo  Bembo,  a  noble  Venetian  who  held  high 

137 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

office  under  the  Republic.  He  was  successively  Am- 
bassador at  Florence — where  his  son  Pietro  was  born  in 
1470 — and  at  Ferrara,  but  is  chiefly  remembered  by 
the  tomb  which  he  raised  to  Dante's  memory  while  he 
was  Podesta  of  Ravenna.  Whenever  Messer  Bernardo 
could  spare  a  few  weeks  from  his  official  duties,  he 
took  refuge  with  his  wife  and  children  at  Villa  Bozza, 
and  there  Pietro  spent  the  happiest  days  of  his  boy- 
hood. In  his  Latin  Dialogue  Etna,  a  record  of  the 
journey  which  he  paid  to  Sicily  to  study  Greek  under 
Lascaris,  the  scene  is  laid  at  the  Villa.  We  have  a 
charming  picture  of  the  two  scholars,  father  and  son, 
sitting  in  the  cool  shelter  of  the  atrium  inside  the  house, 
on  a  hot  August  day,  discussing  the  eruption  of  the 
volcano  and  all  the  wonderful  things  which  the  young 
man  had  seen  in  Sicily.  Presently  the  burning  heat  of 
the  sun  compels  them  to  retire  into  the  library,  where 
they  sit  at  ease  and  turn  over  the  pages  of  their 
favourite  tomes,  until  the  sun  sinks  in  the  western  sky 
and  they  stroll  out  into  the  woods  by  the  river,  listen- 
ing to  the  pleasant  murmur  of  running  water.  "  Thus, 
with  always  new  delight,  we  return  to  our  beloved 
Nonianum." 

In  June  1519  Bernardo  died  suddenly,  and  his  son 
was  summoned  to  Venice,  to  find  himself  face  to 
face  with  a  critical  state  of  affairs.  His  father  had 
left  heavy  debts  and  three  orphan  grandchildren,  the 

138 


CARDINAL    BEMBO   AND    HIS    VILLA 

children  of  his  daughter  Antonia,  for  whom  Pietro  had 
to  provide  ;  while,  to  add  to  his  difficulties,  a  dis- 
honest factor  of  an  estate  which  he  held  under  the 
Knights  of  St.  John  at  Bologna,  had  absconded  with 
600  florins.  Such  were  the  straits  to  which  he  was 
reduced  that  he  feared  he  must  sell  his  beloved 
Villa.  "My  father's  death,"  he  wrote  to  his  old 
friend,  Cardinal  Bibbiena,  "  has  involved  me  in  such 
financial  difficulties  that  I  hardly  know  which  way 
to  turn.  And  yet,  if  possible,  I  would  preserve  that 
delightful  Villetta,  of  which  I  have  so  often  told 
you — I  mean  my  dear  Noniano." 

Fortunately  this  catastrophe  was  averted  and  Bembo 
managed  to  raise  a  dowry  of  3000  florins  for  his 
eldest  niece,  Marcella,  whom  he  married  to  his  kins- 
man, Gian  Matteo  Bembo,  an  able  young  official, 
"  not  rich,  but  sufficiently  well-to-do  and  highly 
esteemed  in  the  city."  Marcella's  sisters  went  back 
to  their  convent,  to  remain  there  until  a  dowry 
could  be  provided  for  them,  and  Bembo  returned  to 
Rome,  groaning  in  spirit  over  his  hard  fate.  The 
high  hopes  which  he  had  entertained  on  Leo's 
accession  had  been  disappointed,  the  Cardinal's  hat, 
which  at  one  time  dangled  before  his  eyes,  had 
vanished  into  space,  and  he  found  himself  involved 
in  vexatious  lawsuits  with  rivals  who  disputed  his 

1  Lettere,  i.  46. 
139 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

right  to  the  benefices  which  he  already  held.  He 
was  thoroughly  sick  of  Rome,  and  hated  the  sight 
of  a  pen.  At  length,  in  June  1521,  he  obtained 
leave  of  absence  on  the  score  of  ill  health,  and  left 
the  Eternal  City,  with  the  fixed  resolve  never  to 
return  there. 

"  God  knows,"  he  wrote  from  the  Villa  to  his  old 
Urbino  friend,  Archbishop  Fregoso,  "  that  I  left 
Rome  and  Pope  Leo,  on  pretence  of  taking  a  short 
holiday  for  the  good  of  my  health,  but  with  the 
firm  resolution  never  to  return  and  to  spend  what  little 
is  left  me  of  life,  for  my  own  enjoyment,  not  for 
that  of  others.  I  am  settled  in  Padua,  a  beautiful 
city  with  a  temperate  climate,  quiet  and  convenient 
and  singularly  well  adapted  for  the  pursuit  of  letters. 
I  spend  part  of  my  time  in  town,  and  part  in  this 
Villa,  free  from  all  cares,  or,  if  my  slender  resources 
entail  some  burdens  that  I  cannot  lay  down,  these 
are  comparatively  light  and  do  not  hinder  my  studies. 
I  would  have  taken  this  step  long  ago  if  it  had 
been  possible,  and  should  not  have  wasted  ten  of  the 
best  years  of  my  life  which  have  been  thrown  away, 
excepting  so  far  as  they  have  procured  me  a  little 
fortune  and  freedom."  1 

During  the  next  ten  years  most  of  Bembo's  life 
was  spent  at  his  beloved  Villa.  In  1527  he  succeeded 
in  buying  a  fine  palazzo  in  the  parish  of  S.  Barto- 
lommeo  in  Padua,  close  to  the  great  church  of  the 

1  Lettered  118. 
140 


CARDINAL   BEMBO   AND   HIS   VILLA 

Santo,  where  he  housed  his  priceless  treasures  of 
art,  the  paintings  by  Raphael  and  Bellini,  by  Man- 
tegna  and  Memling,  the  bronzes  and  marbles,  the 
gems  and  rare  manuscripts,  which  he  had  collected. 
But  although  he  adorned  this  town  house  with  a 
lovely  garden  and  terraces  of  orange  and  lemon 
trees,  and  planted  a  grove  where  his  favourite 
nightingales  made  their  nests,  he  always  escaped  to 
the  Villa  in  the  early  spring  and  lingered  there  until, 
on  All  Saints'  Day,  the  University  term  opened  with 
High  Mass  in  the  Cathedral. 

His  life  there  was  brightened  by  the  companion- 
ship of  Morosina,  the  beautiful  young  girl  who  had 
lived  with  him  in  Rome,  and  who,  until  her  death 
in  1535,  was  the  cherished  partner  of  his  home  and 
the  mother  of  his  children,  although  he  never  made 
her  his  wife.  Bembo,  as  he  sometimes  found  it 
necessary  to  remind  his  correspondents,  was  not  a 
priest.  Like  many  of  his  contemporaries,  he  had 
only  taken  minor  orders  to  enable  him  to  hold 
ecclesiastical  benefices,  and  in  this  age  of  lax  morals 
the  irregularity  of  the  connection  gave  no  cause  for 
scandal.  The  guests  who  came  and  went  at  the 
Villa,  the  friends  who  shared  Bembo's  intimacy, 
treated  her  exactly  as  if  she  had  been  his  legal  wife. 
Rodolfo  Pio  of  Carpi,  the  young  Protonotary  De 

Rossi,    Trifone    Gabriele,    and     Molza     talked     and 

141 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

laughed  with  her  and  sent  her  friendly  messages  in 
their  letters.  Even  ecclesiastics  as  saintly  as  Sadoleto 
and  Contarini  were  not  deterred  by  her  presence 
from  visiting  the  Villa,  while  the  members  of  Bembo' s 
own  family,  Gian  Matteo  and  Marcella,  showed  her 
the  liveliest  affection. 

Two  years  after  they  settled  at  Padua,  Morosina 
gave  birth  to  a  boy,  Lucilio,  who  became  the  apple 
of  his  father's  eye.  In  May  1525  a  second  boy 
named  Torquato  was  born,  and  three  years  later  a 
girl,  who  received  the  classical  name  of  Elena.  The 
happiness  of  his  domestic  circle  satisfied  the  cravings 
of  Bembo's  sensitive  nature  and  filled  a  void  in  his 
life.  Another  inmate  of  the  Villa  was  Cola  Bruno 
— \htfidus  Achates  who  followed  Bembo  from  Messina 
and  never  left  him  until  his  death  in  1542.  Messer 
Cola  was  indispensable  to  Bembo,  alike  as  secretary 
and  literary  adviser,  as  steward  and  man  of  business. 
He  wrote  his  letters,  revised  his  verses,  sold  his  crops 
and  wine,  superintended  the  publication  of  his  works 
at  Venice,  and  travelled  all  over  Italy  to  collect  his 
rents  and  defend  his  rights.  Morosina  and  her 
children,  Marcella  and  her  husband,  were  equally 
devoted  to  Cola,  and  by  the  will  which  Bembo 
made  in  1536  he  *  appointed  this  loyal  servant  to  be 
the  guardian  of  his  children,  with  the  strict  in- 
junction never  to  leave  their  side,  or  allow  anyone 

142 


CARDINAL   BEMBO   AND   HIS   VILLA 

else  to  interfere  with  them.  Perhaps  a  still  greater 
mark  of  confidence  was  the  fact  that  he  left  Cola 
all  his  writings  in  prose  or  verse  to  be  published  or 
not,  at  his  discretion. 

Nor  was  Bembo  unmindful  of  the  peasants  who 
lived  on  his  small  estate — his  little  family,  as  he  calls 
them  in  his  letters.  He  took  a  fatherly  interest  in 
their  concerns,  protected  them  from  the  injustice  of 
rapacious  officials,  nursed  them  when  they  were  sick, 
and  wept  for  them  when  they  died.  Many  were  the 
appeals  which  he  addressed  to  the  Podesta  of  Cittadella 
on  behalf  of  these  innocent  contacting  whose  wrongs  he 
regarded  as  injuries  to  himself.  One  day  he  insisted 
on  the  release  of  a  poor  lad  who  had  been  arrested 
for  bearing  a  sword,  as  if,  in  those  troubled  times,  a 
weapon  were  not  needed  for  self-defence.  Another 
time  he  demanded  the  restoration  of  an  old  servant's 
effects,  which  a  kinsman  in  Ferrara  had  detained  un- 
justly. "  I  beg  you,"  he  wrote  to  Duke  Alfonso's 
secretary,  "  send  for  the  scoundrel  and  give  him  a 
good  scolding,  which  he  richly  deserves.  And  if  you 
can  recover  these  things,  which  are  worth  little  in 
themselves,  but  are  precious  to  our  poor  old  Anna, 
I  shall  be  as  much  obliged  as  if  they  were  Countess 
Matilda's  dowry."  l  When,  on  the  Feast  of  the  Virgin, 
a  dance  was  given  at  the  Villa,  Bembo  would  write  to 
1  Lettere^  Hi.  115. 

H3 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

his  nephew  Gian  Matteo  in  Venice,  begging  him  to 
send  a  few  trifles  such  as  women  like,  as  prizes  on  this 
occasion — a  mirror  and  a  pair  of  combs,  worth  about 
two  and  a  half  lire  each,  and  a  coloured  waistband, 
together  with  six  lire  of  pretty  pink  and  white  sugared 
confetti.  The  death  of  his  old  gardener,  Piero 
Antonio,  was  a  real  sorrow.  "  This  year,"  he  wrote 
to  his  friend  Flavio  Crisolino,  the  Papal  Secretary,  "  I 
have  lost  my  Piero  Antonio,  and  although  he  was 
only  a  servant,  his  death  has  grieved  me  more  than 
you  would  have  thought  possible.  But  he  was  good 
and  faithful,  and  had  been  constant  in  all  the  changes 
of  fortune  which  have  befallen  me  during  the  last 
twenty-five  years.  I  cannot  and  will  not  forget 
him." 1 

From  his  quiet  retreat,  Bembo  kept  up  an  active 
correspondence  with  his  old  friends  and  colleagues, 
and  watched  the  critical  events  that  were  taking  place 
in  Rome.  He  received  the  news  of  the  sudden  death 
of  his  patron,  Leo  X,  without  any  pretence  at  excessive 
sorrow,  and  lamented  the  accession  of  Pope  Adrian  IV, 
whose  Papacy  was,  in  his  eyes,  more  hurtful  than  any 
vacancy.  "  Cursed,"  he  cried,  "  a  thousand  times 
cursed,  be  the  blind  goddess  Fortune,  for  her  deplor- 
able lack  of  judgment ! "  And  in  common  with 
all  the  friends  of  Art  and  Letters,  he  rejoiced  at 

1  Lett  ere,  iii.  120. 
144 


CARDINAL   BEMBO   AND   HIS    VILLA 

the  accession  of  a  Medici  Pope  in  the  person  of 
Clement  VII.  Bembo  lost  no  time  in  going  to  kiss 
the  new  Pope's  feet,  and  in  November  1524  he  arrived 
in  Rome,  bringing  with  him  the  MS.  of  his  Prose 
as  an  offering.  Clement  received  him  graciously  and 
promised  him  a  Canonry  of  Padua,  but  not  even  the 
company  of  Sadoleto  and  Ghiberti  could  make  him 
forget  the  Villa.  "  I  am  longing  for  home,"  he  wrote 
to  Rodolfo  Pio,  "and  as  soon  as  this  Jubilee  is  over, 
I  shall  return  far  more  willingly  than  I  came  here." 
Again  in  a  letter  to  Trifone  he  says,  "  I  count  the 
days  till  I  get  back  to  you  and  my  other  friends,  to 
our  sweet  and  tranquil  life,  and  my  delicious  Villetta." 
A  sharp  attack  of  fever,  however,  delayed  his  return, 
and  it  was  not  till  April  that  he  finally  left  Rome. 
From  Pesaro  he  wrote  to  the  Duchess  of  Urbino, 
expressing  his  disappointment  at  missing  her,  and 
telling  her  that  his  visit  to  Rome  had  nearly  cost  him 
his  life.  "  Now,  however,"  he  adds,  "  I  am  well 
again,  and  on  the  way  to  my  blessed  Villetta,  from 
which  Rome  shall  never  tear  me  again."  l 

A  few  days  after  his  return  he  addressed  the  follow- 
ing letter  to  his  old  colleague,  Agostino  Foglietta, 
giving  a  graphic  account  of  life  at  the  Villa,  and  of 
the  contrast  which  its  peaceful  delights  offered  to  the 
turmoil  of  Rome  : 

1  Lettere^  ii.  32,  iii.  88,  iv.  41. 

145  K 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

"  As  you  saw,  I  mounted  my  horse,  still  suffering 
from  the  illness  which  Rome  unkindly  gave  me,  in 
reward  for  my  trouble  in  coming  to  see  her.  But, 
as  I  rode,  my  strength  returned  at  every  step,  and 
by  the  time  I  arrived  here,  I  was  myself  again. 
Whether  this  was  due  to  the  pleasure  I  felt  in  leaving 
Rome,  which  certainly  treated  me  badly  this  time,  or 
to  the  change  of  air,  or  to  healthy  exercise,  I  will  not 
attempt  to  decide,  probably  it  was  the  result  of  all 
three !  At  Padua  I  paid  visits  to  some  of  my  friends, 
and  received  visits  from  others,  and  then  came  on  to 
my  Villetta,  which  received  me  with  open  arms  and 
where  I  find  a  peace  and  content  that  are  a  great 
contrast  to  the  troubles  which  beset  me  in  Rome.  I 
do  not  hear  disagreeable  news.  I  need  not  think  of 
lawsuits  or  wait  on  Procurators,  or  visit  Auditors  of  the 
Rota.  I  hear  nothing  but  the  voices  of  nightingales 
warbling  from  every  bush  in  joyous  rivalry,  and  the 
songs  of  other  birds,  who  all  do  their  best  to  please 
me  with  their  divine  harmonies.  I  read,  I  write ; 
when  I  choose,  I  ride  or  walk,  I  spend  much  of  my 
time  in  a  grove  at  the  end  of  a  pleasant  and  fruitful 
garden,  where  I  gather  vegetables  for  the  first  course 
of  our  evening  meal,  and  sometimes  pick  a  basket  of 
strawberries,  which  are  not  only  delicious  to  the  taste, 
but  perfume  the  whole  breakfast-table  with  their 
fragrance.  Nor  should  I  forget  to  tell  you  that  all 
day  the  garden  and  house,  and  the  whole  place,  are 
full  of  roses.  And  that  nothing  should  be  lacking  to 
my  enjoyment,  I  spend  the  evening,  when  it  is  pleas- 
anter  to  be  on  the  water  than  on  land,  in  a  small 
boat.  First  I  row  along  a  clear  stream  that  flows  past 
the  house  and  then  on  the  Brenta,  which  this  brook 

146 


CARDINAL   BEMBO   AND   HIS   VILLA 

joins,  and  which  here  is  a  swift  and  joyous  river,  and 
waters  our  meadows  on  the  other  side.  In  this  fashion 
I  mean  to  spend  the  whole  summer  and  autumn,  only 
going  to  Padua  now  and  then  for  a  few  days  to  see  my 
friends,  and  make  my  Villa  seem  the  more  charming 
compared  with  the  city.' 


»» i 


So  the  days  slipped  away,  and  by  August,  Bembo 
felt  himself  once  more  "  a  simple  peasant  of  the  soil." 
With  his  own  hands  he  not  only  picked  strawberries 
and  roses,  but  dug  the  ground  and  planted  trees  and 
shrubs.  Papal  Secretaries  who  paid  him  a  visit  were 
pressed  into  the  service,  and  became  as  keenly  interested 
in  the  garden  as  its  owner. 

"  To-morrow,"  wrote  Bembo  one  October  to  Flavio 
Crisolino,  "  I  shall  return  home,  to  plant  new  trees  in 
the  little  grove  which  has  lost  several  oaks  and  chest- 
nuts, owing  to  the  intense  heat  of  the  past  summer. 
Your  ivy  has  already  covered  a  fine  large  pavilion  at 
the  other  end  of  the  garden,  and  I  have  made  another 
little  pergola  with  ivy  and  larch-poles  firmly  fixed  in 
the  ground  at  regular  intervals,  which  in  two  or  three 
years'  time  ought  to  be  very  beautiful.  So  you  see  that 
your  work  has  produced  excellent  results.  I  rejoice 
to  hear  that  you  often  think  of  my  Villetta  and  of  the 
happy  life  we  lead  there,  although  I  can  hardly  believe 
that  your  important  affairs  leave  you  time  to  think  of 
my  small  fortunes.  But  I  do  not  repent  my  choice, 
and  am  more  content  every  day  and,  thank  God,  both 
well  and  merry."  2 

1  Letter  e>  iii.  73.  2  Ibid.,  iii.  120. 

H7 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE    RENAISSANCE 

The  great  reputation  which  Bembo  had  acquired  as 
a  poet  and  scholar,  his  vast  knowledge  of  classical 
literature  and  the  mastery  with  which  he  wrote  both 
in  Latin  and  in  the  lingua  votgare,  attracted  all  the  men 
of  letters  who  came  to  study  at  Padua.  One  summer 
day  the  venerable  Professor  Leonico  rode  out  to  the 
Villa  with  a  distinguished  company,  which  included 
young  Ermes  Stampa,  the  Duke  of  Milan's  intimate 
friend,  and  Reginald  Pole — "  Monsignore  d'Inghilterra" 
as  he  was  called — who,  besides  being  near  of  kin  to  the 
King  of  England,  was  said  to  be  the  most  virtuous  and 
learned  youth  at  the  University.  These  illustrious 
guests  spent  an  enjoyable  afternoon  studying  Bembo' s 
priceless  Codices  and  discussing  the  latest  poems  of 
Petrarch  which  he  had  discovered,  and  lingered  on 
the  pleasant  lawn  among  the  roses  and  honeysuckle, 
until  the  last  glow  of  the  setting  sun  had  died  away. 
This  was  a  red-letter  day  in  Bembo's  calendar. 

There  were  others,  too,  which  lived  long  in  his 
memory.  One  morning,  news  reached  the  Villa  that 
Gaspare  Contarini  was  coming  to  Padua  on  his  way 
to  Rome;  so  Bembo  hastened  to  send  horses  for  the 
Ambassador's  use,  and  placed  both  his  houses  at  the 
disposal  of  this  august  visitor.  Another  day  his  dear 
friend  Trifone  would  come  over  from  Ronchi  with 
Vettore  Soranzo,  the  young  Papal  Chamberlain,  bring- 
ing their  latest  sonnets  and  canzoni  for  Messer  Pietro's 

148 


CARDINAL   BEMBO   AND   HIS   VILLA 

approval.  Or  else  Luigi  da  Porto,  the  gallant  young 
soldier  who  wrote  the  story  of  Romeo  and  Juliet, 
and  who  could  handle  the  sword  as  skilfully  as  the 
pen,  would  ride  over  with  his  brother  Bernardino  from 
their  Villa  in  the  Berici  hills,  to  read  Bembo  his  latest 
romances.  Sometimes  Bembo  and  Cola  would  take 
horses  and  ride  through  the  fair  Trevigiana  to  visit 
M.  Luigi  Priuli  in  his. fine  house  at  Treville,  or  seek 
out  Messer  Alvise  Cornaro  in  his  Villa  at  Este  in  the 
green  Euganean  hills,  and  see  the  splendid  gardens 
which  Giangiorgio  Trissino  was  laying  out  round  his 
new  country-house  at  Cricoli.  All  these  places  were 
within  easy  reach  of  Villa  Bozza,  and  presents  of  choice 
fruit  and  early  vegetables  often  passed  between  their 
different  owners.  Messer  Luigi  da  Porto  would  send 
Bembo  a  basket  of  superb  strawberries,  or  a  brace 
of  quails  and  a  young  kid.  Another  time  a  swift 
retriever  for  his  use  out  hunting,  or  a  bundle  of 
fine  asparagus,  would  arrive  from  Vicenza.  "Com- 
mend me  to  our  dear  Marc  Antonio  Silvestri  and 
his  fine  garden,"  wrote  Bembo  to  the  poet  Cappello, 
"  and  beg  him  to  send  me  some  roots  of  his  excellent 
artichokes." 

Bembo's  love  of  good  things  was  well  known  to  his 
friends,  and  all  manner  of  delicacies  found  their  way 
to  the  Villa.  Costanza  Fregoso,  the  wife  of  Count 

Landi  of  Piacenza,  whose  son  came  to  study  at  Padua 

149 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

and  lodged  in  Bembo's  house,  sent  her  old  friend 
cheeses  and  salted  tongues,  or  cases  of  lemons  from 
the  shores  of  the  Lago  di  Garda ;  while  boxes  of 
sweetmeats,  preserved  citrons,  and  pink  sugar  confetti 
came  from  the  General  of  the  Augustinians  at  Venice. 
Bembo's  own  gifts  of  strawberries  or  flowers  to  his 
friends  at  Padua  were  generally  accompanied  with  a 
sonnet  or  a  canzone — "  a  few  rhymes  which  saw  the 
light  this  summer  in  the  idleness  of  this  do  Ice  Noniano, 
and  were  born  so  lately  that  the  ink  on  the  page  is 
hardly  yet  dry."  "  You  are  too  courteous,  my  dear 
Ramusio,"  he  exclaimed,  when  a  richly  bound  copy 
of  the  donor's  Gallia  arrived,  together  with  a  fine 
young  tree  and  a  jar  of  olives  from  the  Venetian 
historian. 

From  all  parts  of  Italy,  scholars  and  poets  sent  their 
masterpieces  to  receive  the  benefit  of  Bembo's  advice 
and  criticism.  Sannazzaro  sent  his  De  Partu  Vir- 
ginis  from  Naples,  Castiglione  wrote  from  Toledo  to 
beg  that  Bembo  would  revise  the  proof  of  his 
Cortegiano,  Ariosto  brought  the  new  edition  of  his 
Orlando  to  lay  before  him.  Trifone  and  Nava- 
gero,  Molza  and  Tebaldeo,  Bernardo  Tasso  of  Ferrara, 
and  the  Veronese  poet  Fracostoro,  Vittoria  Colonna 
and  Veronica  Gambara,  all  consulted  "this  oracle  of 
Apollo1'  regarding  their  productions,  while  countless 

other  poets  whose  names  are  forgotten  followed  their 

150 


CARDINAL   BEMBO   AND    HIS   VILLA 

example  and  sought  the  advice  of  this  one  man  whose 
authority  was  supreme  in  literary  matters. 

Meanwhile  Bembo's  own  studies  were  not  neglected. 
"  Here  I  am,"  he  wrote  to  a  Roman  prelate,  a  few 
weeks  after  his  return  to  the  Villa  in  1525,  "busy 
once  more  with  my  old  friends,  the  books,  whose 
good  graces,  I  flatter  myself,  I  have  recovered.  They 
had  good  reason  to  be  vexed  with  me,  as  I  had  not 
looked  at  them  during  the  whole  winter,  although, 
God  knows,  this  was  not  my  fault."  A  few  years 
later  he  wrote  to  his  old  secretary  Avila,  "  I  read  and 
write  more  now  than  I  have  ever  done  before." 
Much  of  his  leisure  was  devoted  to  the  annotation  of 
his  old  favourites,  Petrarch  and  Dante,  and  to  the 
collation  of  classical  texts,  but  he  found  time  to  study 
Provengal  poetry  and  Spanish  literature,  and  even 
wrote  verses  in  Spanish  to  please  Duchess  Lucrezia. 
During  these  years  he  revised  most  of  his  earlier  works 
for  publication.  Gli  Asolani,  the  Latin  dialogues 
Etna,  De  ducibus,  and  the  Prose  were  all  printed 
at  the  Aldine  Press  in  1530,  as  well  as  the  volume 
of  Rime,  of  which  no  fewer  than  thirty  editions 
were  published  before  the  close  of  the  century. 

So  happy  and  content  amid  these  varied  occupations 
was  the  great  scholar,  that  he  never  stirred  from  home, 
and  did  not  even  go  to  Venice  for  two  years.  But  in 

1  Lettere^  ii.  vi.  15,  ii.  200. 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

May  1527  the  peace  of  the  Villa  was  rudely  disturbed 
by  the  news  of  the  terrible  disaster  which  had  befallen 
Rome — the  capture  and  sack  of  the  city  by  the 
Imperialist  armies.  Like  all  who  had  known  the 
Eternal  City  in  the  golden  days  of  Leo,  Bembo  was 
filled  with  consternation.  In  his  letters  to  Sadoleto 
at  Carpentras,  he  poured  out  the  anguish  of  his  soul, 
and  mourned  over  the  ruin  which  had  overtaken  his 
dearest  friends.  Foglietta  was  killed  by  a  chance  shot, 
Ghiberti,  the  Papal  Datary,  was  dragged  from  prison 
to  prison  by  Spanish  soldiers,  Angelo  Colocci's  price- 
lese  collections  were  plundered  before  his  eyes,  Negri 
lost  his  library  and  Paolo  Giovio  the  manuscript  of  his 
history.  Tebaldeo,  the  beloved  friend  of  Bembo  and 
Raphael,  was  given  up  for  lost,  and  was  only  saved  by 
taking  refuge  in  Palazzo  Colonna.  In  his  joy  at 
hearing  of  his  friend's  safety,  Bembo  sent  Tebaldeo 
a  present  of  thirty  ducats  to  relieve  his  most  pressing 
needs,  and  begged  him  to  come  to  Padua  or  Venice, 
assuring  him  of  the  most  friendly  reception  from  his 
many  admirers.  "  Come  here  to  those  who  love  you 
and  await  you,"  he  wrote,  "  and  leave  this  miserable 
corpse  of  our  once  beautiful  Rome."  l 

But  by  this  time  all  Italy  was  overrun  by  foreign 
invaders.  A  squadron  of  German  and  Spanish  troops 
ravaged  Bembo's  Commenda  at  Bologna,  cutting  down 

1  Letter e>  iii.  157. 
152 


CARDINAL   BEMBO   AND    HIS   VILLA 

fruit  trees  and  vines  for  fuel,  and  burning  the  houses 
of  the  unhappy  peasants.  Even  the  Villa  was  not  safe 
from  alarms.  In  his  terror  at  the  approach  of  these 
savage  hordes,  Bembo  prepared  to  remove  his  family 
to  Venice  in  the  spring  of  1528,  and  begged  Ramusio 
for  the  use  of  his  father-in-law  Navagero's  house,  the 
Ambassador  being  in  France  at  the  time.  "  Would  to 
God,"  he  exclaimed,  "that  these  vile  Germans  had 
stayed  by  their  own  stoves,  instead  of  coming  here 
to  vex  us."  Fortunately  the  Landsknechten  took 
another  road,  and  this  cloud  which  darkened  the 
horizon  drifted  away  to  the  north.  "  I  hear,"  he 
wrote  to  Soranzo,  "  that  these  cursed  Germans  are 
marching  on  Peschiera,  and  we  shall  be  rid  of  them  by 
to-morrow.  So  Messer  Trifone  may  stay  quietly  at 
Ronchi,  and  I  need  not  load  my  barge  for  Venice." 
Then  he  adds  the  following  characteristic  message : 
"Tell  my  Aunt,  Madonna  Cecilia,  that  for  the  last 
four  days,  a  most  delicious  nightingale  has  been  singing 
in  my  garden,  filling  my  soul  with  rapture  all  day 
long,  and  the  closer  I  stand  and  watch  him,  the  better 
he  sings.  I  know  that  if  she  were  here,  she  would 
envy  me,  and  I  hope  she  will  come  to  my  house  the 
more  willingly,  to  hear  this  enchanting  little  bird."  x 

The  following  year  was  saddened  by  the  death  of 
several  of  Bembo's  most  intimate  friends.     Castiglione, 
1  Lettere,  ii.  183. 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

his  old  comrade  at  the  Court  of  Urbino,  died  in  Spain, 
broken-hearted  by  the  sack  of  Rome  ;  and  he  lost  both 
his  neighbour  Luigi  da  Porto,  and  the  beloved 
Navagero,  who  died  of  fever  at  Blois.  "  He  was  too 
excellent  a  man  for  these  cruel  and  miserable  times," 
wrote  Bembo.  "  Cursed,  oh !  thrice  cursed  be  the 
evil  fate  which  has  robbed  me  of  the  men  I  loved  best. 
But  my  pen  refuses  to  do  her  part,  and  I  had  rather 
weep  than  write." 

He  remained  at  the  Villa  all  through  the  spring  and 
summer,  and  found  his  best  comfort  in  the  sweet 
scents  of  the  garden  and  the  countless  nightingales 
which  soothed  his  wounded  spirits  with  their  delicious 
song. 

"  Yet  are  thy  pleasant  voices,  thy  nightingales,  awake, 
For  Death,  he  taketh  all  away,  but  these  he  cannot  take." 

At  Christmas  Bembo  went  to  Bologna  to  meet  the 
Pope,  and  to  see  the  Emperor,  who  came,  it  was  fondly 
hoped,  to  restore  peace  to  Italy  and  receive  the  Imperial 
Crown.  Many  of  his  old  friends  were  there  to  welcome 
him — Isabella  d'Este,  her  brother  Alfonso,  the  Duke 
and  Duchess  of  Urbino ;  and  every  day  a  brilliant 
company  of  scholars  and  poets  met  at  the  house  of 
Veronica  Gambara.  But  not  all  these  splendours  could 
keep  Bembo  away  from  his  Villa  in  the  springtime,  and 
by  March  he  was  at  home  again  with  Morosina  and 
her  children. 


CARDINAL   BEMBO   AND   HIS   VILLA 

"  I  am  back  at  my  Villa,"  he  wrote  to  Soranzo, 
"  and  have  already  spent  three  days  here  with  singular 
pleasure,  owing  to  the  extraordinary  beauty  of  the 
season.  No  one  ever  remembers  so  fine  a  March ! 
Not  only  are  the  roads  dry,  the  skies  blue  and  the  air 
as  balmy  as  in  summer — all  three  things  that  are  very 
unusual  at  this  time  of  year — but  the  trees  are  green 
and  full  of  leaf,  and  their  foliage  already  affords  us 
shade  from  the  heat  of  the  sun,  which  has  not  yet 
climbed  far  towards  the  north.  Yesterday,  which  was 
the  Feast  of  Our  Lady,  I  picked  some  quite  large 
almonds  and  several  ripe  strawberries,  which  is  more 
singular  as  none  have  yet  arrived  in  the  city  from 
Arqua,  where,  as  you  know,  fruit  ripens  earlier  than  in 
any  of  these  parts.  What  is  still  more  remarkable,  the 
vines  in  this  district  have  put  forth  not  only  eyes,  but 
young  tendrils,  before  the  pruning-knife  has  touched 
them.  The  swallows  have  been  here  some  days,  and 
the  turtle,  cuckoo,  and  nightingale  have  all  been  heard. 
If,  as  I  hear,  the  Papal  Court  is  on  the  way  to  Rome, 
you  will  have  summer  weather  at  Easter,  which  I  for 
one  do  not  envy  you."  1 

The  wonderful  beauty  of  the  season,  as  Bembo  told 
the  Pope  in  another  letter,  made  him  less  inclined  to 
envy  the  gentle  citizens  of  Padua,  whom  he  saw  return- 
ing from  the  Coronation  festivities  with  faces  flushed 
and  tired  by  their  exertions  to  secure  a  good  place  at 
the  pageant.  But  these  halcyon  days  at  the  Villa  were 
already  numbered.  On  the  death  of  Navagero, 

1  Lettere,  ii.  200. 
I5S 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Ramusio  informed  Bembo  that  he  had  been  proposed 
as  his  successor  in  the  important  office  of  historio- 
grapher to  the  Republic.  At  first  -  he  shrank  from 
undertaking  so  arduous  a  task,  and  pleaded  his  advanc- 
ing years  and  ignorance  of  history  in  support  of  his 
reluctance.  But  his  objections  were  overruled,  and  in 
June  1530  he  was  appointed  to  succeed  Messer  Andrea, 
both  as  historian  to  the  State  and  Keeper  of  the  Nicene 
Library,  for  which  latter  office  his  vast  knowledge  of 
manuscripts  fitted  him  especially.  "  God  forgive  you, 
my  son,  Gian  Matteo,  and  my  brother,  Messer 
Giovanni  Battista,  for  interrupting  the  sweet  repose  of 
this  delicious  life  and  the  studies  that  are  dearer  to  me 
than  any  dignities  and  grandeur.  It  is  your  doing  I 
am  persuaded,  and  I  know  that  your  motive  has  been 
an  excellent  one.  But  once  I  put  out  to  sea  again  and 
take  up  this  burden,  I  shall  never  live  as  peacefully  as 
of  old.  .  .  .  And  believe  me,  it  is  no  light  task  to 
write  history — with  any  credit  to  oneself."  l 

During  the  next  eight  years  Bembo  discharged  the 
duties  of  his  double  office  with  conscientious  assiduity. 
His  house  in  Venice  became  the  meeting-place  of  the 
most  famous  scholars,  and  his  writings  attained  a 
world-wide  celebrity.  Erasmus  celebrated  his  praises 
as  the  brightest  ornament  of  the  age,  and  in  his  dreams 
Aretino  saw  him  throned  on  the  heights  of  Parnassus 
1  Lettere^  ii.  214. 

156 


CARDINAL   BEMBO   AND   HIS   VILLA 

and  crowned  by  celestial  spirits  with  a  diadem  of  light. 
But  henceforth  his  visits  to  the  Villa  were  few  and  far 
between.  Morosina  and  her  children  still  spent  the 
summer  there,  and  Bembo  joined  them  whenever  he 
could  snatch  a  few  days  from  his  official  duties.  "To-day 
I  am  at  the  Villa,  and  seem  to  be  alive  again,"  he  wrote 
one  August  to  Gian  Matteo  at  Venice.  "  Here  it  is 
fresh  and  beautiful,  and  altogether  delightful.  I  mean 
to  stay  here  for  a  few  days,  and  wish  that  you  could 
leave  your  desk  and  come  here  with  your  boy  Luigi." 

But  all  too  soon,  sorrows  came  to  darken  this  happy 
home.  Bembo's  promising  boy,  Lucilio,  died  there  one 
summer  day  in  1532,  after  a  few  hours'  illness.  "I 
have  lost  my  Lucilio,"  the  stricken  father  wrote  to  his 
old  friend  Avila,  "  my  sweet  and  charming  boy,  on 
whom,  as  you  know,  all  the  hopes  of  my  house  were 
set.  I  cannot  tell  you  what  grief  this  unexpected 
event  has  caused  me.  ...  So  in  one  moment  all 
our  hopes  and  dreams  are  shattered."  And  in  answer 
to  Veronica  Gambara's  letter  of  sympathy  he  wrote : 
"  Certainly  I  have  lost  a  little  son,  who  more  than 
fulfilled  every  hope  I  had  formed  of  his  future 
although  he  was  not  yet  nine  years  of  age.  But  I  try 
not  to  murmur  at  the  Will  of  God,  and  since  my 
flower  was  doomed  to  die  so  soon,  at  least  I  thank 
Heaven  that  he  was  all  I  could  most  desire."  l 
1  Lettere^  iii.  212,  iv.  27. 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Morosina  never  recovered  from  the  shock  of  her 
child's  death.  Three  years  later  she  followed  him  to 
the  grave,  and  was  buried  under  a  stately  tomb  in  the 
church  of  S.  Bartolommeo.  Bembo  was  inconsolable 
for  her  loss. 

"  What  shall  I  say,  my  dearest  Trifone,"  he  wrote 
to  his  old  and  valued  friend,  "  in  answer  to  your  letter 
on  the  death  of  my  loved  Morosina  ?  Before  it 
reached  me,  I  had  turned  for  comfort  to  the  Ancients, 
and  tried  to  read  the  consoling  words  which  they  used 
at  such  moments.  But  this  does  me  little  good,  for 
no  sooner  do  I  lay  down  the  book,  than  I  remember 
she  is  gone,  and  that  I  have  lost  the  sweetest  soul  that 
ever  lived.  She  loved  me  far  more  than  herself  and 
was  altogether  satisfied  with  my  love,  despising  the 
gifts  and  ornaments  of  jewels  and  fine  clothes  which 
please  other  women.  And  this  blessed  soul  was  clad 
in  the  fairest  form,  and  had  the  loveliest  face  that  has 
ever  been  seen  in  these  lands,  or,  perhaps,  in  the  present 
time.  It  is  true,  as  you  say,  that  I  ought  to  thank 
God  who  gave  her  to  me  for  all  these  years.  I  try  to 
do  this,  but  it  is  impossible  in  one  moment  to  lay  aside 
the  affections  which  are  part  of  our  being,  and  must 
remain  with  us  as  long  as  we  live.  I  know  how  true 
your  sorrow  is,  and  realise  how  much  you  loved  this 
fair  and  noble  woman,  and  how  deeply^she  on  her  part 
loved  and  honoured  you.  Farewell."  l 

How  deeply  Bembo  felt  this  bereavement  we  learn 
from  the  touching  letter  which  he  wrote  to  Ramusio, 

1  Lettere,  ii.  37. 

158 


CARDINAL   BEMBO   AND   HIS   VILLA 

when  he  in  his  turn  lost  his  wife  a  few  months  later. 
"  On  returning  last  night  from  Praglia,  where  I  had 
ridden  for  exercise  and  change  of  scene,  I  found  the 
sad  news  of  the  death  of  your  dear  wife,  Madonna 
Franceschina,  awaiting  me.  I  feel  for  you  as  a  fond 
brother,  who  knows  by  experience  how  hard  these  part- 
ings are  to  bear.  For  when  we  are  already  old  and 
want  these  sweet  and  faithful  companions  more  than 
ever,  it  is  a  bitter  and  cruel  thing  to  be  deprived  of 
them."  1 

The  two  children  whom  Morosina  had  left  him 
were  henceforth  the  object  of  Bembo's  tenderest  care 
— the  boy  Torquato  and  the  little  Elena,  who  grew  up 
so  like  her  mother  that  the  sight  of  her  lovely  face 
often  brought  tears  to  his  eyes.  They  still  spent  the 
summer  at  the  Villa,  in  Cola's  charge,  and  when,  in 
1539,  Bembo  received  the  long-coveted  Cardinal's 
hat  from  Paul  III,  he  came  there  to  spend  his  last 
few  days  with  them.  The  sight  of  these  familiar 
places  recalled  the  past  vividly  ;  he  wrote  his  beautiful 
elegy  on  the  death  of  Morosina  and  sent  it  to  his 
intimate  friend  Elisabetta  Quirini  at  Venice,  begging 
her  to  let  no  one  see  the  verses,  or  hear  that  they  had  been 
composed  after  his  election.  Then  the  new  Cardinal 
went  on  to  Rome,  and  in  spite  of  the  load  of  seventy 
years  that  weighed  heavily  on  his  shoulders,  took  up 
1  Lettere,  ii.  103. 

'59 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

these  new  duties  with  his  wonted  ardour.  "  I  am 
well/'  he  wrote  on  Christmas  Eve  to  Venice.  "  This 
air  is  milder  than  ours  and  suits  me  better.  I  am 
about  to  be  ordained,  and  shall  learn  to  say  Mass 
to-morrow.  You  see  how  great  a  change  God  has 
wrought  in  me."  l 

But  amid  all  the  glamour  of  Rome  and  the  manifold 
interests  of  this  new  life,  Bembo  never  forgot  Villa 
Bozza.  Nothing  gave  him  more  pleasure  than  to 
hear  from  the  newly  arrived  Venetian  Ambassador  the 
latest  tidings  of  Torquato  and  Elena,  and  above  all  of 
the  garden.  He  insisted  on  hearing  every  detail  of  the 
children's  life,  and  charged  Cola  to  provide  the  best 
tutors  for  them  both,  saying  that  money  spent  on  edu- 
cation was  always  well  spent.  Unfortunately,  Torquato 
was  an  incorrigible  idler,  who  hated  the  sight  of  a  book, 
while  Elena  displayed  an  independent  spirit  that  tried 
the  patience  of  the  nuns  in  whose  convent  she  had 
been  placed.  "I  regret  to  hear,"  wrote  her  father, 
"  that  you  have  become  proud  and  obstinate,  and  refuse 
to  obey  your  teachers.  This  has  vexed  me  greatly, 
because  girls  of  this  kind  grow  up  so  disagreeable  that 
everyone  dislikes  them,  most  of  all  their  husbands  and 
parents."  Worse  than  all,  Elena  begged  to  be  allowed  to 
learn  to  play  the  clavichord,  a  request  which  the  Cardinal 
sternly  refused,  saying  that  this  was  a  vain  and  fri- 

1  Lettere,  v.  225. 
1 60 


CARDINAL   BEMBO   AND   HIS   VILLA 

volous  pursuit,  unworthy  of  a  modest  and  honourable 
lady.  "  Besides  which,"  he  adds,  "  you  will  never  play 
well,  unless  you  devote  ten  or  twelve  years  to  this 
exercise,  which  you  know  would  be  impossible.  And 
if  you  play  badly,  your  music  will  bring  you  little 
pleasure  and  much  disgrace.  So  give  up  this  foolish 
desire,  and  tell  your  companions  that  you  are  not 
going  to  learn  the  clavichord  for  them  to  laugh  at 
you."  * 

On  his  seventy-first  birthday — May  20,  1541 — 
Bembo  wrote  to  Cola,  thanking  him  for  all  his  loving 
care  of  the  children,  and  rejoicing  to  hear  that  Elena 
was  writing  Latin  verses  and  learning  grammar,  and 
that  Torquato  showed  some  taste  for  antiques,  the  sure 
sign  of  a  gentle  nature.  "This  month  he  enters  his 
seventeenth  year,  and  is  no  longer  a  child,  but  a  man. 
Elena,  too,  will  be  thirteen  on  the  last  day  of  June. 
Tell  me  if  she  is  growing  up  as  tall  and  beautiful 
as  she  promised  to  be.  For  certainly  there  is  nothing 
dearer  in  the  world  to  me,  or  that  I  love  half  as 
well  as  I  do  this  child."  That  summer  was  spent 
by  Torquato  and  Elena  with  Cola  at  the  Villa,  where 
they  were  as  merry  as  crickets.  "  I  am  glad,"  wrote 
the  Cardinal,  "to  hear  that  you  are  staying  longer 
than  usual  at  my  Villetta,  especially  for  Elena's  sake, 
for  this  is  one  of  the  two  seasons  of  the  year  when 

1  Letter e>  iv.  105,  107. 

L 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

it  is  looking  its  best.  I  envy  you  not  a  little.  But 
keep  well  and  enjoy  yourselves."  l 

It  was  the  last  summer  which  this  joyous  party  were 
to  spend  at  Villa  Bozza.  For  Cola — good,  faithful 
Col£ — fell  suddenly  ill  that  winter  and  died.  Elena 
begged  in  vain  to  be  allowed  to  go  to  the  Villa  as 
usual  with  her  brother  in  August,  but  was  told  that  at 
her  age  this  was  impossible,  and  that  she  must  stay 
in  the  convent  until  the  time  came  for  her  to  leave 
it  for  good. 

The  Cardinal  was  already  looking  out  for  a  suitable 
match  for  his  daughter,  and  in  the  summer  of  1543 
he  obtained  the  Pope's  leave  to  go  to  Venice,  that 
he  might  arrange  a  marriage  "  for  the  child  whom  my 
human  frailty  gave  me."  In  July,  Elena  was  married 
at  Padua,  in  her  father's  presence,  to  Pietro  Gradenigo, 
a  young  Venetian  "  of  good  family  and  excellent 
appearance."  The  Cardinal  paid  a  last  visit  to  the  Villa, 
which  he  had  not  seen  for  many  years,  and  returned 
to  his  new  diocese  at  Gubbio,  not  without  a  sigh  for 
the  old  days  when  he  was  a  free  man  and  could  live 
where  he  chose.  After  the  birth  of  Elena's  son  in 
1544,  she  and  her  husband  went  to  Villa  Bozza  for 
the  autumn,  leaving  the  little  Paolino,  by  her  father's 
orders,  with  her  cousins.  Bembo  took  the  keenest 
interest  in  his  grandson,  and  gave  Elena  minute 

1  Leltere,  iii.  374-6. 
162 


CARDINAL   BEMBO   AND   HIS   VILLA 

directions  as  to  his  clothes  and  food,  begging  her  above 
all  to  see  that  the  boy  was  not  allowed  to  walk  too 
early.  Unfortunately  the  marriage  had  not  proved 
altogether  happy.  The  Cardinal  was  sorely  disturbed 
to  hear  of  his  son-in-law's  indiscretions,  and  could 
only  recommend  the  young  wife  to  be  patient  and 
gentle  herself,  while  he  begged  Marcella  to  be  kind 
to  la  poverina.  At  his  request,  however,  Elisabetta 
Quirini  spoke  seriously  to  Pietro  on  the  subject,  and 
did  this  with  so  much  tact  that  the  young  man  actually 
listened  to  her  advice.  After  the  birth  of  a  second 
child,  in  August  1546,  the  young  couple  again  spent 
the  autumn  at  the  Villa,  to  Elena's  delight  and  her 
father's  great  satisfaction. 

"I  am  thankful,"  he  wrote  to  Gian  Matteo  in 
October,  "  to  hear  what  you  say  of  my  son-in-law, 
and  especially  to  know  that  he  and  his  wife  are  happy 
together.  You  may  imagine  how  much  I  envy  them 
for  being  at  the  Villa  for  the  vintage,  but  as  long 
as  they  are  enjoying  themselves,  I  shall  be  quite 
content."  And  to  Pietro  he  wrote :  "  I  can  see  you 
and  Elena  to-day  at  the  Villa,  enjoying  this  sweet  and 
delicious  time  of  year,  and  must  own  that  I  feel  very 
envious."  *  The  thought  of  his  darling  child  spending 
these  sunny  autumn  days  under  the  grape-laden  vines, 
on  the  banks  of  the  swift-flowing  Brenta,  revived  old 
1  Letter e>  iv.  105,  107. 

163 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

memories,  and  made  him  long  to  see  the  place  again. 
He  wrote  to  Elena,  telling  her  how  much  he  hoped  to 
come  to  Padua  another  year,  and  spend  the  summer 
with  them  at  his  beloved  Villetta.  But  a  few  days 
after  this  he  had  a  fall,  from  the  effects  of  which  he 
never  recovered.  Three  months  later — on  January 
30,  1547 — the  great  Cardinal  died  in  Rome,  and  never 
saw  Elena  or  the  Villa  again. 


164 


BIANCA  SFORZA— THE  LADY  OF  THE 
AMBROSIANA 

"  Quant  'e  bella  giovinezza 
Che  si  fugge  tuttavia  ! 
Chi  vuol  esser  lieto,  sia, 
Di  doman  non  c'e  certezza." 

LORENZO  DE'  MEDICI. 

THERE  are  some  portraits  which  have  a  strange  and 
peculiar  fascination.  Most  of  us  recall  unforgettable 
faces  by  Giorgione  and  Titian,  by  Rembrandt  and 
Holbein,  as  well  as  the  one  supreme  picture  which  has 
laid  its  spell  on  all  generations — Leonardo's  "  Mona 
Lisa."  Something  of  the  same  mysterious  charm  be- 
longs to  the  unknown  "Lady  of  the  Ambrosiana,"  in 
Milan,  a  portrait  which  certainly  came  from  Leonardo's 
studio,  if  it  was  not  actually  painted  by  his  hand.  For 
centuries  this  lovely  profile  hung  in  a  dark  corner  of 
Cardinal  Federico  Borromeo's  Gallery,  dirty  and 
neglected.  But  even  in  those  ignorant  days  its  sur- 
passing beauty  attracted  the  notice  of  connoisseurs. 
Fifty  years  ago  Otto  Mundler  praised  its  divine  excel- 
lence, and  Gaillard,  the  accomplished  French  engraver, 
revealed  its  charm  to  readers  of  the  Gazette  des  Beaux 
Arts  in  a  plate  executed  only  two  years  before  his 
premature  death.  Dr.  Bode  has  told  us  of  the  young 

165 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Italian  student,  Gustavo  Frizzoni,  who  paid  a  visit  to 
Berlin  and  on  his  return  home  sent  him  a  photograph 
of  the  Ambrosiana  portrait,  as  the  rarest  thing  in 
Milan.  To-day  the  precious  picture  has  been  cleaned, 
re-framed,  and  hung  in  a  prominent  place,  while  the 
admirable  reproduction  published  by  the  Medici  Society 
has  made  this  portrait  one  of  the  most  popular  of 
Renaissance  works.  We  are  all  of  us  familiar  with 
the  exquisite  little  head  and  sweet  young  face,  so  pure 
and  virginal  in  its  innocent  charm,  with  the  long 
slender  throat  and  the  bright  auburn  locks  caught  up 
in  their  jewelled  fillet.  The  costly  attire  and  rich  gems 
bear  witness  to  the  maiden's  high  degree,  and  the 
intricate  pattern  of  linked  ornament,  first  worn  by 
Duchess  Beatrice,  and  repeated  in  different  forms  by 
Leonardo,  point  to  a  close  connection  with  the  house 
of  Sforza.  Yet  the  origin  of  the  portrait  is  still  wrapt 
in  mystery. 

In  the  good  old  days,  when  every  second  picture  was 
ascribed  to  a  great  master,  this  portrait  and  its  com- 
panion-piece— the  bust  of  a  young  man  in  red  cap 
and  fur-trimmed  vest — were  labelled  as  portraits  of 
Lodovico  Sforza  and  his  wife  Beatrice,  painted  by 
Leonardo  da  Vinci.  Morelli  was  the  first  to  question 
this  attribution,  and  to  point  out  certain  defects  in  the 
drawing  of  the  girl's  head  and  neck,  and  other  peculi- 
arities, which  made  it  probable  that  the  portraits  were 
the  work  of  Ambrogio  de  Predis,  a  young  Milanese 

166 


BIANCA   SFORZA 

artist  who  stood  high  in  the  Moro's  favour,  and  was 
employed  to  paint  portraits  of  the  ducal  family  between 
1482  and  1500.  Ambrogio  was  one  of  Leonardo's 
most  capable  assistants,  and  when  the  Franciscan  friars 
refused  to  give  the  Florentine  master  a  sufficient  sum 
for  his  "  Vierge  aux  Rochers,"  he  was  employed  to 
execute  a  replica  of  the  altar-piece  for  their  church. 
Leonardo's  painting,  as  we  all  know,  was  bought  by 
Francis  I,  and  now  hangs  in  the  Louvre,  while  his 
pupil's  copy  remained  in  S.  Francesco  of  Milan,  until 
in  1796  it  was  bought  for  thirty  ducats  by  Gavin 
Hamilton  and  eventually  passed  from  Lord  Suffolk's 
collection  into  the  National  Gallery.  Since  Morelli 
recognised  the  same  hand  in  the  Ambrosiana  portraits, 
the  war  of  attributions  has  waged  fiercely  round  these 
pictures.  While  the  ascription  to  Ambrogio  de  Predis 
has  been  accepted  by  Dr.  Frizzoni,  Mr.  Berenson,  and 
other  leading  critics,  it  is  hotly  contested  by  Dr.  Bode 
and  the  Milanese  historian,  Signor  Beltrami,  who  still 
maintain  the  "  Lady  of  the  Ambrosiana  "  to  be  Leon- 
ardo's work. 

The  absurdity  of  identifying  these  pictures  as  the 
portraits  of  Lodovico  Sforza  and  Beatrice  d'Este  has, 
however,  been  generally  acknowledged.  We  have 
only  to  compare  them  with  well-known  portraits, 
busts,  and  medals  of  the  Duke  and  Duchess  to  recog- 
nise the  fallacy  of  the  old  legend.  The  strongly 
marked  features  of  Lodovico,  which  are  familiar  to  us 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

in  the  Trivulzio  portrait  and  countless  reliefs  and 
medals,  bear  no  similarity  to  those  of  the  beardless 
youth  in  Ambrogio's  painting,  while  Cristoforo 
Romano's  bust  of  the  young  Duchess  in  the  Louvre 
and  Costa's  portrait  of  her  in  the  Pitti  have  little 
affinity  with  the  lady's  type  of  countenance.  Beatrice's 
charm,  according  to  her  contemporaries,  was  rather  due 
to  her  colouring  and  vivacity,  to  her  sparkling  black 
eyes  and  animated  expression,  than  to  any  regular 
beauty  of  feature,  while  her  plump  throat  and  chin, 
and  natural  inclination  to  corpulence,  formed  a  marked 
contrast  to  the  slenderness  and  delicacy  of  the  Ambro- 
siana  maiden. 

Another  suggestion,  first  made  by  Dr.  Bode,  was 
that  the  personages  here  represented  were  Lodovico's 
nephew,  Gian  Galeazzo  Sforza,  Duke  of  Milan,  and 
his  wife  Isabella  of  Aragon.  But  here  again  the 
theory  is  disproved  by  authentic  portraits  and  medals, 
and  Duchess  Isabella's  proud  features  and  majestic 
bearing  have  certainly  little  in  common  with  the 
shy,  gentle  face  of  the  girl  in  our  picture.  More 
plausible  at  first  sight  is  the  supposition  that  we 
have  here  a  portrait  of  Bianca  Maria  Sforza,  the 
sister  of  Gian  Galeazzo  and  the  wife  of  the  Emperor 
Maximilian.  This  idea  owes  its  origin  to  the  mention 
made  in  his  diary  by  the  so-called  "  Anonimo,"  Marco 
Antonio  Michieli,  of  a  portrait  which  he  saw  in  the 
home  of  Taddeo  Contarini,  at  Venice,  in  1525,  and 

1 68 


BTANCA   SFORZA 

described  as  "a  profile  portrait  of  Madonna  .  .  . 
daughter  of  Signor  Lodovico  of  Milan  .  .  .  after- 
wards married  to  the  Emperor  Maximilian,  by  the 
hand  of  ...  Milanese."  Taddeo  Contarini  was  a 
wealthy  Venetian  banker,  who  often  supplied  Isabella 
d'Este  and  her  lord  with  loans  of  money,  and  who 
owned  several  fine  paintings  by  Giorgione  and  other 
choice  works  of  art.  Nothing  would  be  more  likely 
than  that,  after  the  sack  of  the  Castello  of  Milan 
by  the  French  in  1499,  and  the  dispersion  of  the 
Moro's  treasures,  this  picture  fell  into  the  hands  of 
some  Venetian  dealer,  who  sold  it  to  Contarini.  But 
there  was  some  evident  confusion  in  the  Anonimo's 
mind  as  to  the  two  Bianca  Sforzas.  It  was  not 
Lodovico's  daughter,  but  his  niece,  the  sister  of  the 
reigning  Duke,  who  in  1498  became  the  wife  of 
Maximilian  I.  Two  superb  portraits  of  the  young 
Empress  are  still  in  existence.  Both  were  painted  by 
Ambrogio  de'  Predis,  who  at  the  Emperor's  request 
was  sent  to  Innsbruck  in  his  bride's  suite,  and  who 
took  refuge  there  in  1502,  after  the  conquest  of 
Milan  by  the  French.  One  of  Bianca's  portraits  is 
now  in  the  Widener  Gallery,  at  Philadelphia,  U.S.A., 
the  other  remains  in  the  possession  of  the  Countess 
Visconti-Arconati,  in  Paris.  In  the  one  she  wears  a 
sumptuous  court  robe  and  a  profusion  of  jewels,  in 
the  other  she  is  clad  in  a  simple  tight-fitting  bodice, 

cut  square  at  the  neck,  with  a  single  string  of  pearls 

169 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

round  her  throat.  But  neither  of  these  bear  any 
likeness  to  the  portrait  of  the  Ambrosiana.  In  both 
we  notice  the  same  receding  chin  and  slightly  aquiline 
nose,  the  same  placid  and  self-satisfied  expression. 
The  Empress  Bianca  was,  as  she  is  here  represented, 
a  thoroughly  dull  commonplace  woman,  who  annoyed 
her  imperial  lord  as  much  by  her  childish  and  un- 
dignified behaviour  as  by  her  lavish  expenditure  on 
clothes  and  trinkets.  Bianca,  as  Maximilian  justly 
remarked,  was  quite  as  fair  a  woman  as  his  first  wife, 
Mary  of  Burgundy,  but  was  very  inferior  to  her  in 
good  sense  and  character.  Yet  she  had  a  kind 
heart,  and  in  after  years  extended  generous  help  and 
protection  not  only  to  the  members  of  her  own 
family,  but  to  all  the  Milanese  exiles  who  sought 
shelter  at  the  imperial  court  after  the  Moro's  fall. 
In  her  dull  surroundings  at  Innsbrtick,  the  young 
Empress  pined  for  the  blue  skies  and  brilliant  life 
of  her  old  home,  and  was  always  writing  to  her 
uncle  Lodovico  and  to  Duchess  Beatrice,  begging 
them  to  send  her  gloves  and  perfumes,  feathers  and 
silks  for  her  own  use,  and  to  give  her  news  of  the 
kindred  and  friends  for  whom  she  sighed.  As  Dr. 
Bode  has  justly  remarked,  the  Lady  of  the  Ambrosiana 
must  have  been  an  infinitely  more  intelligent  and  attrac- 
tive person  than  the  poor  foolish  Empress,  who,  like  her 

mother  Bona,  was  evidently  "  une  dame  de  petit  sens." 

170 


BIANCA   SFORZA 

But  there  was  another  Bianca  Sforza,  who,  as 
Michieli  writes,  was  "  the  daughter  of  Signer  Lodovico 
of  Milan."  A  German  scholar,  Dr.  Paul  Miiller- 
Walde,  first  suggested  that  this  Bianca,  whom  the 
Anonimo  had  evidently  confused  with  her  cousin,  was 
in  all  probability  the  original  of  Ambrogio  de  Predis' 
portrait.1  A  "ritratto  di  Madonna  Bianca,"  we  learn 
from  Leonardo's  note-books,  was  among  the  commis- 
sions given  him  in  the  year  1491,  by  his  patron 
Lodovico  Sforza.  But  we  never  hear  that  he  executed 
the  order,  and  like  many  others  it  was  probably  left 
to  his  pupil  Ambrogio,  who  painted  the  portrait  which 
we  now  see  in  the  Ambrosiana. 

All  that  we  know  of  Bianco  Sforza  agrees  with  the 
picture.  She  was  very  delicate  and  very  lovely,  full 
of  charm,  sweetness,  and  intelligence.  The  only 
daughter  of  the  great  Moro,  she  was  married,  at  the 
age  of  fourteen,  to  her  father's  prime  favourite, 
Galeazzo  di  San  Severino,  and  died  a  few  months 
afterwards,  to  the  infinite  grief  of  the  whole  Milanese 
court.  Such,  briefly  told,  is  the  story  of  this  fascinat- 
ing maiden,  whose  gentle  face  haunts  us  with  a  dim 
foreboding  of  early  death. 

"  Et  rose,  elle  a  vecu  ce  que  vivent  les  roses, 
L'espace  d'un  matin." 

1  Dr.  Miiller-Walde  im   Jahrbuch   d.   K.   Preuss.     Sammlungen, 
xviii.  no. 

171 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Recent  researches  enable  us  to  add  a  few  more 
details  to  the  short  sad  tale.  Bianca  Giovanna  Sforza 
was  born  at  Milan  in  1482,  shortly  after  Lodovico' s 
return  from  exile  and  appointment  as  Regent,  during 
his  nephew  Gian  Galeazzo's  minority.  Her  mother, 
Bernardina  de'  Corradis,  was  one  of  the  many  mistresses 
for  whom  the  Moro  seems  to  have  had  a  passing 
fancy.  After  giving  birth  to  Bianca,  she  married  a 
Milanese  gentleman  and  bore  him  several  children.1 
But  Lodovico,  after  his  custom,  treated  his  discarded 
mistress  kindly,  giving  her  a  liberal  allowance  and 
letting  her  have  frequent  access  to  Bianca,  who  was 
brought  up,  under  his  own  eye,  in  the  Castello.  "  In 
this  country,"  remarks  Commines,  "no  difference  is 
made  between  legitimate  and  illegitimate  children." 
The  French  chronicler's  saying  was  literally  true  of  the 
Este  and  Sforza  princes.  The  good  Duchess  Leonora 
brought  up  her  husband's  illegitimate  daughter, 
Lucrezia,  with  her  own  children,  and  both  Isabella 
D'Este  and  Elizabetta  Gonzaga  treated  the  Marquis 
Francesco's  natural  daughter,  Margherita,  with  the 
utmost  affection.  Lodovico  Sforza  had  already  two 
illegitimate  sons,  Galeazzo,  who  died  in  his  childhood, 
and  Leone,  the  son  of  a  Roman  girl,  who  was  born  in 
1476.  But  little  Bianca  had  the  distinction  of  being 
his  only  daughter,  and,  from  the  first,  was  the  object 
1  A.  Giulini  in  Archivio  St.  Lomb.,  xxxix.  243. 

172 


BIANCA   SFORZA 

of  his  especial  affection.  Before  she  was  a  year  old,  on 
the  29th  of  April,  1483,  he  made  a  will,  settling 
12,000  ducats  on  her,  and  six  years  later  he  took  the 
further  step  of  proclaiming  her  legitimacy,  by  virtue  of 
a  ducal  decree  issued  at  Vigevano  on  the  8th  of 
November,  1489.  By  this  time  Lodovico's  own 
marriage  with  Beatrice  d'Este  had  been  arranged, 
although  its  completion  was  delayed,  owing  to  his  new 
liaison  with  the  beautiful  and  accomplished  Cecilia 
Gallerani.  He  now  promised  Bianca's  hand  to  his 
favourite,  Galeazzo  di  San  Severino,  whom  Dr.  Miiller- 
Walde  assumes  to  be  the  original  of  the  unfinished 
portrait  by  Ambrogio  de  Predis  which  forms  the 
companion-piece  to  that  of  Bianca  in  the  Ambrosiana. 
In  the  absence  of  authentic  portraits  or  medals  of  the 
hero,  it  is  impossible  to  say  if  this  supposition  is  correct, 
but  the  handsome  and  sensitive  face  agrees  with  all  we 
know  of  Bianca's  husband.  The  musical  notes  in  the 
background,  that  were  brought  to  light  by  Signor 
Cavenaghi  when  he  cleaned  the  portrait,  are  by  no 
means  incompatible  with  Dr.  Miiller-Walde's  theory, 
since  Lodovico's  favourite  was  noted  for  his  love 
of  music  and  poetry.  A  son  of  Robert  di  San 
Severino,  the  valiant  Condottiere  who  was  by  turn 
Lodovico's  staunchest  ally  and  his  most  deadly 
foe,  and  of  his  Sienese  wife,  Lucrezia  Malavolti, 
Galeazzo  was  related  to  the  ducal  house  through 

173 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

his  grandmother,  Lisa  Sforza,  a  sister  of  Francesco, 
who  possessed  a  large  share  of  the  great  Duke's 
courage  and  ability.  After  his  father  was  killed 
fighting  at  the  head  of  the  Venetian  forces  in  Tyrol, 
Galeazzo  entered  Lodovico's  service  and  rose  high  in 
his  favour.  This  brilliant  and  accomplished  youth, 
who  excelled  in  all  knightly  exercises,  and  took  delight 
in  art  and  letters,  became  dear  to  the  Moro  as  a  son, 
and  was  daily  honoured  with  fresh  marks  of  his  con- 
fidence and  affection.  In  1489  he  made  Galeazzo 
Captain-general  of  the  Milanese  armies,  and  gave  him 
the  hand  of  his  little  daughter,  who  was  growing  up  a 
singularly  lovely  and  attractive  child,  "  counting  her 
the  most  precious  thing  he  had  on  earth." 

On  the  loth  of  January,  1490,  the  wedding  was 
solemnised  with  due  splendour  in  the  Castello  of 
Milan,  before  the  Duke  and  Duchess  and  the  whole 
court.  Bellincioni,  the  favourite  poet  of  the  Sforza 
princes,  wrote  an  ode  for  the  occasion,  in  which  he 
celebrated  the  bridegroom's  prowess  in  arms,  his 
generous  soul  and  noble  heart,  while  he  praised  the 
charms  of  the  youthful  bride,  "  the  phoenix  of  her 
age  and  the  heir  of  her  illustrious  father's  genius." 
Bianca's  dowry  included  the  city  of  Voghera  and 
the  magnificent  palace  in  Milan,  formerly  given  by 
Francesco  Sforza  to  Cosimo  de'  Medici.  The  Medici 
Bank,  as  it  was  called,  stood  in  the  narrow  Via  de 

174 


BIANCA   SFORZA 

Bossi,  near  the  Castello,  and  had  been  decorated  by 
the  foremost  artists  of  the  day.  Michelozzi  is  said 
to  have  designed  the  noble  portal  adorned  with 
marble  reliefs  of  Duke  Francesco  and  his  wife, 
Bianca,  now  in  the  Castello  Museum,  and  the 
Brescian  painter,  Vincenzo  Foppa,  was  certainly  em- 
ployed to  paint  the  interior.  The  Etruscan  architect, 
Filarette,  writing  in  1464,  devotes  several  pages  of 
his  Trattato  to  a  description  of  its  splendid  loggias, 
marble  halls,  and  richly  carved  and  painted  ceilings, 
and  ends  by  declaring  that  it  is  the  "  most  beautiful 
thing  in  Milan."  l  At  that  time  Foppa  was  painting 
the  palace-walls  with  frescoes  from  Roman  history, 
including  the  favourite  story  of  Trajan  and  the 
Widow,  and  portraits  of  the  ducal  family.  But  the 
work  was  interrupted  by  the  death  of  Cosimo,  and 
twenty  years  later  his  grandson,  Lorenzo,  was  com- 
pelled by  financial  difficulties  to  sell  the  bank  for 
4000  ducats  to  Luigi  da  Tersago,  Captain  of  the 
Milanese  Horse.  The  new  owner,  being  a  wealthy 
man,  spent  large  sums  on  the  improvements  of  the 
house,  adding  a  stately  loggia  and  laying  out  vast 
gardens  with  terraces,  fountains,  and  groves  of  palm 
and  cypress.  Foppa,  who  had  lately  returned  to 
Milan,  was  summoned  to  resume  his  task,  and 
painted  a  new  series  of  frescoes  along  the  parapet  of 
1  A  History  of  Milan  under  the  Sforza^  by  C.  M.  Ady,  268. 

'75 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

the  inner  courtyard.  A  fragment  of  one  of  these 
frescoes — the  charming  little  painting  popularly  known 
as  "  Gian  Galeazzo  reading  Cicero " — was  rescued 
from  destruction  when  the  house  was  pulled  down  in 
1864,  and  was  sold  by  a  French  dealer  to  Sir  Richard 
Wallace.  It  is  now  among  the  treasures  of  the 
Wallace  Collection  at  Hertford  House. 

Unfortunately  Luigi  da  Tersago  became  implicated 
in  the  conspiracy  against  the  regent,  Lodovico,  that 
was  set  on  foot  by  the  Castellan,  Filippo  da 
Eustachio,  in  September  1489.  The  unhappy  captain's 
guilt  was  proved,  and  he  was  condemned  to  end  his 
days  miserably  in  the  dungeons  of  Pavia.  His 
splendid  house  was  confiscated  with  all  the  priceless 
tapestries,  furniture,  plate,  and  jewels  which  it  con- 
tained. On  hearing  of  Tersago's  disgrace,  Lorenzo 
de'  Medici,  who,  in  Guicciardini's  graphic  phrase,  had 
parted  from  the  Bank  "  with  bitter  tears  in  his  eyes," 
and  had  never  ceased  to  regret  its  loss,  begged  Lodo- 
vico to  let  him  buy  it  back  for  4000  ducats,  the 
original  price  which  he  had  received  for  his  house. 
But  Lodovico  refused  to  take  less  than  double  this 
sum,  saying  that  Tersago's  improvements  had  greatly 
increased  the  value  of  the  palace,  and  told  the  Duke 
of  Ferrara's  ambassador  privately  that  he  intended  it 
for  his  own  daughter's  use.  Doubtless  "  Messer 
Galeaz,"  whose  fine  taste  in  art  was  well  known, 

176 


BIANCA   SFORZA 

already  had  his  eye  on  the  house,  which  from  its 
size  and  splendour,  as  well  as  from  its  vicinity  to  the 
Castello,  was  a  most  desirable  residence.  At  the 
same  time,  his  favourite  Leonardo  the  Florentine  was 
employed  to  build  the  sumptuous  stables  for  his 
horses,  which  excited  the  envy  and  admiration  of  all 
the  Este  and  Gonzaga  princes.  "  It  seems  to  me," 
wrote  Jacopo  Trotti,  the  Ferrarese  Envoy,  whom 
Lodovico  honoured  with  his  confidence,  "  that  Messer 
Galeaz  is  Duke  of  Milan.  He  can  do  whatever  he 
likes,  and  is  given  whatever  he  chooses  to  ask,  or  wish 
for."  From  the  day  of  his  betrothal  to  Bianca 
Sforza,  Galeazzo  enjoyed  all  a  son's  privileges.  He 
ate  and  drank  at  Lodovico's  table,  and  became,  what 
his  father-in-law  had  promised  to  make  him,  the  first 
man  in  the  State. 

Meanwhile  his  eight-year-old  bride  remained  under 
her  father's  roof.  A  separate  household  was  assigned 
to  her,  she  bore  the  title  of  the  Magnifico  Galeazzo's 
wife,  and  on  State  occasions  appeared  in  public,  with 
the  pomp  due  to  her  rank.  When  Beatrice  d'Este 
entered  Milan  on  the  22nd  of  January,  as  Lodovico's 
wife,  and  Isabella  of  Aragon  rode  out  to  receive  her 
at  S.  Eustorgio,  Bianca  sat  by  her  side  in  the  State 
chariot,  while  Lodovico,  mounted  on  a  superb  war- 
horse  and  clad  in  gorgeous  cloth  of  gold,  escorted  his 
bride  to  the  sound  of  trumpets  and  drums.  She  was 

177  M 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE   RENAISSANCE 

present  the  next  day  at  the  Tournament  on  the  Piazza 
del  Castello,  when  her  gallant  lord,  "  Messer  Galeaz," 
appeared  at  the  head  of  a  troop  of  Scythians,  in  cos- 
tumes designed  by  Leonardo,  and  bore  off  the  chief 
prize  before  his  young  wife's  eyes. 

Duchess  Beatrice  and  her  step-daughter  were  soon 
fast  friends.  "  La  piu  zentil  donna  in  Italia,"  as  this 
bride  of  sixteen  was  called,  welcomed  the  companion- 
ship of  the  captivating  child,  who  was  not  many  years 
younger  than  herself,  and  the  two  were  soon  insepar- 
able. At  the  same  time  Messer  Galeaz  became  the 
young  Duchess's  most  loyal  and  devoted  squire.  He 
rode  out  with  her  on  hunting  parties  to  the  ducal 
villas  in  the  Brianza,  and  sang  and  danced,  or  played 
at  palla  with  her.  As  he  wrote  to  Beatrice's  sister, 
the  Marchioness  Isabella : 

"  I  have  torn  my  clothes  and  cut  my  boots  to  pieces, 
and  played  the  fool  into  the  bargain.  These  are  the 
rewards  one  gains  in  the  service  of  ladies !  But  I  am 
content,  as  it  is  all  for  the  sake  of  my  Duchess,  whom 
I  never  mean  to  fail  in  life  or  death."  * 

On  St.  Andrew's  Day,  1493,  tne  wedding  of  the 
Empress  Bianca  was  celebrated  with  all  the  splendour 
that  Lodovico  could  command.  Leonardo's  colossal 
horse  was  set  upon  a  triumphal  arch  opposite  the 

1  Beatrice  d?Este^  by  Julia  Cartwright,  82  ;  A.  Luzio,  Arch.  st. 
Lomb.,  xvii.  109. 

178 


BIANCA   SFORZA 

Castello,  and  Galeazzo  di  Sanseverino  appeared  as 
captain  of  the  ducal  armies  at  the  head  of  the  nuptial 
procession,  when  the  bride,  with  her  fair  locks  flowing 
over  her  shoulders,  returned  to  the  palace  through  the 
decorated  streets.  On  this  auspicious  day  his  young 
wife,  clad  in  white  satin  and  pearls,  rode  in  the  chariot 
of  state,  between  the  two  duchesses,  Isabella  and 
Beatrice,  and  took  her  seat  with  them  on  the  tribunal 
in  front  of  the  high  altar,  when  the  Archbishop  placed 
the  crown  with  the  cross  and  orb  of  the  world  on  the 
Empress's  head. 

Bianca  was  present  again,  in  the  following  spring, 
when  Beatrice  received  King  Charles  VIII  at  Asti, 
and  was  among  the  Milanese  ladies,  whose  beauty 
and  rich  attire  made  so  deep  an  impression  on  this 
monarch.  A  French  courtier,  writing  to  the  King's 
sister,  Anne  de  Beaujeu,  describes  the  young  duchess's 
robe  of  gold  and  green  brocade,  her  crimson  silk  hat 
with  its  tall  white  plumes,  and  long  coil  of  hair  glitter- 
ing with  pearls,  and  dwells  with  admiration  on  the 
gallant  way  in  which  she  rode,  sitting  up  on  her  horse 
as  erect  as  if  she  had  been  a  man.  "  With  her  on 
horseback  came  a  troop  of  twenty  ladies,  and  among 
them  the  lovely  young  wife  of  the  Magnifico  Galeazzo," 
whose  husband  had  lately  been  sent  on  a  mission  to 
the  French  Court,  and  was  well  known  to  Charles  and 

his  suite.     The  King — a  little,  ugly  man,  with   large 

179 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

hands  and  feet  and  ungainly  figure,  but  as  Beatrice 
remarks,  "  far  more  friendly  and  agreeable  in  manner 
than  I  expected " — advanced  cap  in  hand  and  pro- 
ceeded to  salute  Beatrice  and  Bianca,  and  then  all  the 
ladies,  in  the  French  fashion,  kissing  them  on  the 
cheek.  Charles,  on  his  part,  was  so  much  charmed 
with  the  Duchess  that  he  paid  her  a  visit  the  next 
day,  at  the  Castello  of  Annona,  three  miles  from  Asti, 
and  spent  three  hours  in  her  company.  This  time 
Beatrice  and  Bianca  both  wore  green  satin  robes, 
slashed  with  white,  and  green  velvet  caps,  with  white 
aigrettes,  and  clasps  of  diamonds  and  rubies.  The 
bodices  of  their  gowns  were  studded  with  precious 
gems,  and  they  wore  priceless  pearls  on  their  bare 
arms  and  necks,  a  fashion  which  seems  to  have  sur- 
prised the  French  courtiers.  After  conversing  pleas- 
antly for  some  time,  Charles  begged  Beatrice  and  her 
daughter  to  dance  before  him,  which  they  did,  first 
in  the  Italian,  and  then — "  to  please  the  King — in  the 
French  style."  "And  I  can  assure  you,  Madame," 
adds  the  writer,  "  that  they  acquitted  themselves 
exceedingly  well,  although  they  had  never  danced 
in  this  fashion  before."  l 

As   we   read    the  records  of  the  home  life  of  the 
ducal  family,  which  are  preserved  in  the  musty    old 

1  Godefroi,  Hist,  de  Charles  VIII;  Viocomte  Delaborde,  DExpfdi- 
tion  de  Charles  VIII  en  Italic. 

1 80 


BIANCA   SFORZA 

archives  at  Milan  and  Modena,  we  catch  charming 
glimpses  of  Bianca.  We  read,  for  instance,  how  she 
and  Beatrice  went  out  together  on  bright  spring 
mornings  to  pick  flowers  in  the  gardens  of  the  Castello, 
and  how  they  rode  out  to  Vigevano  or  Cussago,  to  fly 
their  herons  and  enjoy  the  balmy  sweetness  of  the  air, 
and  danced  and  ran  races  and  played  at  palla  on  the 
green  sward.  In  a  graphic  letter  to  his  master,  Duke 
Ercole,  Jacopo  Trotti  describes  how  on  May-day  the 
dukes  and  duchesses,  followed  by  the  whole  Court,  rode 
out  from  the  Castello,  according  to  their  usual  custom, 
to  receive  the  first  flowers  of  spring — torre  del  Mojo. 
The  stately  procession  issued  from  the  gates  in  the  early 
morning  and  rode  out  three  miles  into  the  country, 
where  the  dukes  and  their  consorts  flew  falcons  and 
then  returned  to  the  piazza  in  front  of  the  Castello, 
to  receive  the  first  May-blossoms  from  the  hands  of 
a  troop  of  maidens,  before  an  immense  concourse  of 
people.  On  this  occasion  Isabella  and  Beatrice  were 
clad  in  green  taby  silk  and  wore  their  hair  after  the 
French  fashion,  crowned  by  a  peaked  head-dress, 
studded  with  pearls,  diamonds,  rubies,  and  emeralds, 
with  long  silken  veils  flowing  down  to  the  ground.  "  But 
everyone  noticed,"  remarks  Trotti,  "  that  the  Duchess 
Beatrice's  pearls  were  much  finer  and  larger  than  those 
worn  by  the  Duchess  of  Milan.  And  Madonna  Bianca, 

the  daughter  of  Signer  Lodovico,  was  dressed  in  exactly 

181 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

the  same  manner,  and  they  all  three  rode  the  most 
beautiful  white  horses,  with  trappings  of  green  satin 
and  gold,  and  their  ladies,  about  forty  in  number,  also 
wore  green  satin  vests  and  jackets,  and  their  hair  was 
dressed  alia  francese,  but  without  any  jewels.  And  after 
the  bouquets  of  May-blossom  had  been  presented  to 
them  with  great  triumph  and  rejoicing,  they  rode  home 
to  dinner.1 

But  every  day,  as  Isabella  d'Este  wrote  to  her 
friends  at  Mantua,  new  festivities  succeeded  each  other, 
each  one  more  splendid  and  triumphal  than  the  last. 
Beatrice  and  her  sister  were  never  tired  of  riding  and 
driving  in  the  park  of  the  Castello  or  through  the 
streets  of  Milan,  "  which  had  been  made  so  beautiful 
that  one  would  hardly  recognise  the  place.  For  this 
indeed,"  she  tells  Giovanni  Gonzaga,  "  is  the  school  of 
the  master  of  those  who  know." 

No  doubt,  as  the  Ferrarese  Ambassador  hints,  there 
were  bitter  jealousies  and  dark  secrets  under  all  this  joy 
and  splendour.  The  rivalry  of  Isabella  and  Beatrice  be- 
came every  day  more  apparent,  while  Duke  Gian  Gale- 
azzo's  love  of  pleasure  and  incapacity  for  business  made 
him  a  mere  figure-head,  and  to  his  wife's  regret  left  the 
reins  of  government  entirely  in  his  uncle's  hands.  For- 
tunately for  Bianca,  her  sweet  nature  and  affectionate 

1  Archivio  di  Stato  Modena.     Carteggio  degli  Ambasciatori ,  Busta 
7.   La  Corte  di  Lodovico  il  Moro,  F.  Malaguzzi-  Valeri,  604. 

182 


LE    MOIS    DE    MAI 
(Pol  de  Limbunr) 


BIANCA   SFORZA 

disposition  made  her  a  favourite  with  all  the  members 
of  the  ducal  family.  Always  allegra  e  di  bona  voglia, 
her  presence  was  hailed  with  joy  wherever  she  went. 
She  was  on  the  most  intimate  terms  with  the  reigning 
Duke  and  Duchess,  and  frequently  paid  them  visits  at 
the  Castello  of  Pavia,  where  Gian  Galeazzo  lived  in 
luxury  and  idleness,  dividing  his  time  between  his  wife 
and  his  horses.  In  May  1493,  wnen  Beatrice  had  gone 
to  Venice  with  her  mother,  Bianca  came  to  join  the 
Duke  and  Duchess,  and  found  them  amusing  them- 
selves after  their  wont  at  the  villa  of  Mirabello,  in  the 
park  of  the  Castello.  Both  Gian  Galeazzo  and  Isabella 
welcomed  her  with  effusion,  and  her  coming  was  the 
signal  for  fresh  games  and  merriment.  After  dinner, 
the  princesses  went  out  into  the  meadows,  to  join  the 
peasants  who  were  busy  making  hay,  and  pelted  each 
other,  and  rolled  over  on  the  new-mown  hay,  amid 
shouts  of  laughter,  until  the  sun  sank  behind  the 
pinnacles  of  the  Certosa.  Then  the  Duke,  picking  up 
his  wife  on  the  pillion  of  his  horse,  galloped  back  .to 
the  Castello,  followed  by  Bianca  and  her  ladies,  and 
after  supper  they  all  ended  the  evening  merrily,  picking 
asparagus  and  herbs  for  salad  in  the  gardens.1 

So  they  laughed  and  frolicked  together,  careless  of 

1  Malaguzzi-  Valeri,  op.  cit.,  53.  I  would  refer  all  readers  who  wish 
for  fuller  details  of  the  private  life  of  the  Sforza  princes  to  this  valu- 
able and  finely  illustrated  work,  published  by  Ulrico  Hoepli,  of  Milan, 
in  1913. 

183 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

the  coming  morrow,  and  all  unconscious  of  the  doom 
which  hung  over  them.  That  doom  was  nearer  than 
they  knew.  In  the  autumn  of  the  following  year 
Gian  Galeazzo  died,  worn  out  by  his  excesses,  leaving 
the  unhappy  Isabella  to  eat  out  her  heart  in  gloom  and 
loneliness,  while  her  rival,  Beatrice,  reigned  in  her  stead, 
and  the  title  of  Count  of  Pavia,  which  her  own  child 
had  borne,  was  assumed  by  Lodovico's  son.  Bianca  was 
fondly  attached  to  both  of  her  little  brothers,  Maxi- 
milian and  Francesco.  Her  name  figures  constantly  in 
the  daily  reports  of  the  Duke's  children  that  were  sent 
him  by  the  chamberlain  in  charge,  Giacomo  Seregno, 
when  he  was  absent  at  Pavia  or  Vigevano.  On  the 
1 8th  of  April,  1495,  Bianca  herself  wrote  an  affectionate 
letter  to  her  father,  telling  him  of  her  half-sister's, 
Margherita,  illness,  and  how  she  had  been  helping 
her  mother  to  nurse  the  little  girl.  Soon  afterwards 
Beatrice's  baby-boy,  Francesco,  fell  ill  in  his  turn,  and 
Lodovico's  most  trusted  physicians,  Niccolo  da  Cusano 
and  Ambrogio  di  Rosate,  were  sent  to  attend  him.  But 
he  soon  recovered,  and  one  of  his  attendants,  Francesco 
dal  Maino,  wrote  to  inform  the  Duke  that  Madonna 
Bianca  had  been  to  see  his  Highness,  who  was 
"  looking  as  beautiful  as  a  pearl."  She  kissed  and 
petted  him,  and  amused  him  for  a  long  time  in  her 
arms,  and  was  present  at  six  o'clock  when  he  had  his 

bath.      The   little   fellow  was  as   merry  as   possible, 

184 


BIANCA   SFORZA 

splashing  about  in  the  water,  and  holding  out  his 
little  hands  to  his  sister  as  she  bent  down  to  caress 
him.  "  It  really,"  adds  the  writer,  "  was  the  prettiest 
picture  imaginable."  * 

A  month  later,  on  the  26th  of  May  1495,  Lodovico 
was  solemnly  proclaimed  Duke  of  Milan.  Bianca  was 
present  at  this  ceremony,  which  took  place  on  the 
piazza  in  front  of  the  Duomo,  and  which  Beatrice 
describes  in  her  letters  as  "  the  grandest  pageant  and 
noblest  solemnity  in  the  world."  The  conclusion  of 
peace  with  France,  in  the  following  autumn,  left  the 
Duke  of  Milan  without  a  rival  in  Italy.  His  triumph 
seemed  complete,  and  the  Christmas  festival  was  kept 
with  great  rejoicing  at  Milan.  Galeazzo  di  San 
Severino  laid  down  his  command,  and  claimed  the 
fulfilment  of  Lodovico's  promise  to  let  him  have 
Bianca  to  wife.  The  Duke  still  hesitated,  partly  on 
account  of  her  delicate  health,  and  partly  out  of  reluct- 
ance to  part  from  the  daughter  whom  he  held  as  the 
apple  of  his  eye,  saying  that  he  could  not  love  her 
more  dearly  if  she  had  been  Beatrice's  child.  By  the 
end  of  June,  however,  his  consent  was  finally  given,  and 
Messer  Galeaz  led  his  bride  home  in  triumph  to  his  house 
in  the  Via  de'  Bossi.  But  the  fatigue  and  excitement 
of  the  wedding  festivities  were  too  great  a  strain  for 
Bianca's  frail  health.  She  fell  seriously  ill  a  few  days  after 
1  Archivio  di  Stato>  Milano>  Potenze  Sovrane,  Sforza,  1495. 

185 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

her  marriage,  and  was  carefully  nursed  and  watched 
over  by  the  Court-doctor,  daily  reports  of  her  condition 
being  sent  to  the  Duke  and  Duchess,  who  had  gone  off 
hurriedly  to  meet  the  Emperor  at  Bormio,  in  the 
mountains  of  the  Valtellina. 

Bianca  herself  felt  the  keenest  interest  in  this 
memorable  meeting,  which  took  place  on  the  29th 
of  July,  in  the  ancient  Abbey  of  Mais,  at  the  foot 
of  what  the  Italian  historian  calls  the  crudelissime 
montagne  of  Tyrol.  She  sent  Seregno  to  beg  the 
nuns  of  the  Monastero  Maggiore  to  thank  God  for 
the  success  which  had  crowned  her  father's  journey, 
and  as  soon  as  she  could  leave  her  bed  went  to 
pay  her  vows  at  Our  Lady's  shrine.  But  even  this 
slight  exertion  proved  beyond  her  strength,  and  she 
was  once  more  confined  to  bed.  The  little  Count 
of  Pavia  was  untiring  in  attendance  at  his  sister's 
bedside,  giving  her  medicine  with  his  own  hands,  and 
cheering  her  with  his  childish  prattle. 

Meanwhile  the  Emperor  had  once  more  crossed 
the  Alps,  promising  to  return  shortly,  and  the  Duke 
and  Duchess  hastened  back  to  Milan,  to  keep  the  feast 
of  the  glorious  martyr,  St.  Laurence,  on  the  loth 
of  August.  Galeazzo  and  Bianca  both  accompanied 
them  the  following  week  to  Vigevano,  and  helped  in 
the  preparations  that  were  being  made  for  Maximilian's 

reception.     He  arrived  on  the  2nd  of  September,  and 

1 86 


BIANCA   SFORZA 

spent  the  next  three  weeks  in  the  company  of  Lodovico 
and  Beatrice  and  their  children,  enjoying  the  freedom 
of  country  life  and  the  excellent  hunting  which  he 
found  at  the  Duke's  superb  country-seat. 

A  fortnight  later  the  Venetian  ambassadors,  Antonio 
Grimani  and  Marco  Morosini,  arrived  at  Vigevano  to 
pay  their  respects  to  the  Emperor,  and  were  conducted 
by  the  Duke  himself  to  the  fine  new  palace  near  the 
Porta  Nuova,  which  Leonardo  had  lately  built  for 
Bianca  and  her  lord.  Messer  Galeaz  was  unluckily 
confined  to  his  bed  by  a  sharp  attack  of  fever,  and 
it  was  his  young  wife  who  welcomed  her  father's 
guests,  and  did  the  honours  of  her  house  with  the 
most  winning  grace. 

The  historian,  Marino  Sanudo,  who  was  attached 
to  the  Venetian  Embassy,  has  described  the  audience 
granted  by  the  Emperor  to  the  envoys  on  the  following 
day.  His  Imperial  Majesty,  a  magnificent-looking 
man  with  commanding  presence  and  whitening  locks, 
clad  in  black  velvet  and  wearing  the  collar  of  the 
Golden  Fleece,  received  the  ambassadors,  seated  on  a 
dais  draped  with  cloth  of  gold,  between  the  Duke 
of  Milan  and  the  Cardinal-legate.  The  Venetian 
secretary  was  profoundly  impressed  by  Maximilian's 
stately  courtesy,  and  by  Beatrice's  devotion  to  her 
children  and  husband,  whose  side  she  seldom  left, 

and   whom  she  helped  in  all  the   negotiations  which 

187 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

he  had  to  transact  with  foreign  envoys.  The  pro- 
ceedings ended  with  a  grand  hunting-party,  in  which 
the  ladies  and  ambassadors  all  joined,  after  which 
Maximilian  took  leave  of  his  illustrious  hosts  and  went 
on  to  Pisa  to  conduct  a  campaign  against  Florence.1 

By  the  end  of  September,  Galeazzo  recovered  suffi- 
ciently to  accompany  his  wife  to  her  dower-city  of 
Voghera,  where  the  loyal  citizens  received  the  newly- 
wedded  pair  with  enthusiasm,  and  made  them  many 
rich  presents.  Early  in  November  they  returned  to 
Milan,  and  settled  in  the  Palace  of  the  Via  de'  Bossi 
for  the  winter.  They  found  Leonardo  and  Bramante 
busy  superintending  the  latest  improvements  and  addi- 
tions to  the  Castello,  and  by  the  Duke's  orders  large 
fires  were  lighted  in  the  new  rooms  of  the  Rochetta, 
to  dry  the  walls  before  the  Duchess  returned  for  her 
approaching  confinement.  On  the  8th  of  November, 
Galeazzo,  who  had  never  quite  shaken  off  his  trouble- 
some ague,  rode  out  with  Bianca  to  take  the  air  at 
La  Bicocca,  a  fine  hunting-lodge  belonging  to  Guido 
Archimboldi,  the  Archbishop  of  Milan.  After  dining 
there,  they  both  went  out  hunting  and  killed  a  hare, 
which  they  brought  home  to  Milan.  At  the  Duke's 
suggestion,  his  son-in-law  went  to  Cussago  a  few  days 
later,  and  rode  on  by  Abbiategrasso  to  join  Lodovico 
at  Vigevano,  and  confer  with  him,  before  the  Duke 

1  M.  Sanudo  Diarii^  i.  304-9. 

1 88 


BIANCA   SFORZA 

started  on  his  journey  to  meet  the  Emperor  at  Pavia. 
But  on  the  22nd  of  November,  the  very  day  that  he 
arrived  at  the  Castello  of  Vigevano,  Galeazzo  was 
hastily  summoned  back  to  Milan,  by  the  news  of 
his  wife's  sudden  illness.  Lodovico  himself  was  so 
much  alarmed  that  he  put  off  his  departure  for  Pavia, 
and  sent  a  courier  to  Milan  to  bring  back  the  latest 
accounts  of  his  daughter. 

"  I  know,"  he  wrote  to  his  son-in-law,  "  that  since 
you  are  back  in  Milan,  Bianca  will  have  every  possible 
care  and  attention.  But  as  Maestro  Ambrogio  and  the 
other  doctors  are  with  you,  you  might  send  Maestro 
Luigi  here  to-night,  to  bring  me  full  particulars." 

An  hour  later  a  servant  arrived  at  Vigevano  to  tell 
the  Duke  that  all  was  over.  The  poor  child  never 
recovered  from  the  fainting-fit  which  had  alarmed 
her  attendants  on  the  previous  morning,  and  died 
at  five  o'clock  on  the  2jrd  of  November.  Beatrice 
met  the  messenger  at  the  Castle  gates,  and  in  her 
grief  and  dismay  sent  for  Cardinal  Ascanio  Sforza 
to  break  the  news  to  his  brother.  But  it  was  too 
late  to  hide  the  sad  event  from  Lodovico,  and  all 
the  Duchess  could  do  was  to  beg  the  Archbishop  to 
come  and  comfort  him. 

When  the  first  shock  was  over,  Lodovico  displayed 
his  usual  fortitude  and  spent  the  night  in  writing 

letters   and    giving    orders    for    the    funeral.     A    few 

189 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

weeks  before,  his  son  Leone  had  died  suddenly,  and 
had  been  buried  in  S.  Maria  delle  Grazie,  the  Church 
of  the  Dominican  friars,  in  whose  refectory  Leonardo 
was  in  the  act  of  painting  his  great  Cenacolo. 

Now  Lodovico  wrote  to  the  Archbishop  and 
Castellan  of  Milan,  desiring  that  his  daughter  should 
be  laid  to  rest  in  the  same  place. 

"  Since  it  has  pleased  God  to  take  our  Bianca  to 
Himself,  to  our  inexpressible  sorrow,  I  wish  her  to  be 
buried  in  the  choir  of  S.  Maria  delle  Grazie.  After 
sunset  this  evening,  let  her  be  borne  through  the 
gardens  of  the  Castello  to  the  Church,  and  see  that  the 
gates  of  the  Castello  are  closed  and  guarded,  so  that 
no  one  should  know  what  is  going  on.  In  all  other 
particulars,  let  the  same  order  be  observed  as  in  the 
funeral  of  our  son  Leone.  Only,  as  I  do  not  wish 
Bianca  to  be  buried  in  a  place  where  I  can  see  her 
grave,  you  will  take  care  that  she  is  laid  exactly  behind 
the  high  altar  of  Le  Grazie,  in  such  a  manner  that  her 
tomb  shall  not  be  seen  from  the  rest  of  the  church."  l 

These  orders  were  faithfully  carried  out,  the  only 
exception  being  that  the  Councillors  and  Magistrates 
who  had  been  already  invited  to  attend  the  funeral 
carried  the  bier  by  turns,  from  the  Chapel  of  the 
Castello  to  the  gates  of  the  Dominican  Church.  Here 
Bianca  Sforza  was  laid  to  rest  before  the  high  altar  of 
the  Capella  Grande,  under  Bramante's  fair  cupola. 

1  Arch,  di  Stato,  Potenze  Sovrane,  1496. 
I90 


BIANCA  SFORZA 

Eight  days  afterwards  a  solemn  requiem  for  the  repose 
of  her  soul  was  chanted  in  the  Duomo,  in  the  presence 
of  the  whole  Court,  as  well  as  of  the  College  of 
Physicians  and  other  Orders,  "  as  is  the  custom  in  the 
case  of  princes  of  the  lamented  Madonna  Bianca's  high 
degree,''  and  a  funeral  oration  was  delivered  by  Matteo 
Bossi. 

The  Duke's  first  thought,  in  his  own  overwhelming 
grief,  had  been  for  his  son-in-law,  whose  sorrow  at  his 
young  wife's  sudden  death  would  he  knew  be  excessive, 
and  he  charged  the  Archbishop  and  Castellan,  Benedetto 
da  Corte,  to  go  to  Messer  Galeaz'  immediately  after 
the  funeral,  with  a  message  of  consolation  and  hope. 

"  Tell  him,"  he  wrote,  "  that  since  human  aid  is  of 
no  avail  in  this  bitter  and  unexpected  loss,  we  implore 
him  to  restrain  the  violence  of  his  sorrow  and  try  and 
bear  this  cruel  blow  with  the  patience  that  we  ourselves 
are  striving  to  attain.  And  tell  him,  what  he  knows 
already,  that  he  will  always  remain  most  dear  to  us, 
and  that  we  shall  never  cease  to  regard  him  as  a  most 
beloved  son." 

Galeazzo's  grief  was  indeed  terrible.  He  shut  him- 
self up  in  his  room,  refusing  to  eat  and  drink,  or  take 
any  air  or  exercise,  and  gave  way  to  such  violent 
paroxysms  of  despair,  that  fears  for  his  life  and  reason 
were  entertained.  In  vain  the  Archbishop  and  Castellan 

tried  to  rouse  him  from  his  stupor,  telling  him  that  the 

191 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Duke  needed  his  counsel  in  affairs  of  State  and  beg- 
ging him  to  come  to  his  side,  in  order  that  they  might 
share  their  burden  together  and  console  each  other. 
But  Galeazzo  replied  that  the  blow  was  too  heavy  and 
his  distress  was  too  great  for  him  to  see  anyone,  and 
after  a  brief  interview  they  left  him  alone.  By  degrees, 
however,  the  violence  of  his  grief  diminished,  and  he 
was  induced  to  take  food  and  see  his  friends.  A  week 
later,  Bernardino  de  Corte  was  able  to  inform  the  Duke 
that  Messer  Galeaz  had  been  persuaded  by  his  physician 
and  servants  to  leave  Milan  and  go  to  Abbiategrasso 
for  a  few  days'  change  of  air. 

In  justice  to  Lodovico,  it  must  be  said  that  in  his 
own  sorrow  he  did  not  forget  poor  Bianca's  mother. 
The  letter  which  he  addressed  on  this  occasion  to 
his  former  mistress,  Bernardina  de'  Corradis,  is  a 
curious  example  of  the  good  feeling  and  thought- 
fulness  that  often  surprise  us  in  this  singular  man. 

"Although,"  he  wrote,  "we  cannot  speak  of  the 
sudden  death  of  our  darling  child,  Bianca,  without 
the  bitterest  anguish,  yet  since  you  are  her  mother, 
we  feel  that  it  would  be  a  grave  failure  of  duty  on 
our  part  if  we  did  not  inform  you  of  this  sad  event 
with  our  own  hand,  this  being  unlike  any  other  loss 
that  has  befallen  us.  Yesterday  morning,  at  nine 
o'clock,  having  been  apparently  in  perfect  health  up 
to  this  hour,  she  fell  into  a  sudden  fainting-fit,  and 
in  spite  of  all  that  the  doctors  could  do  for  her, 

192 


BIANCA   SFORZA 

grew  steadily  worse,  until  at  five  o'clock  this  evening 
she  ended  her  life  on  earth.  This  event  has  caused 
us  the  most  unutterable  grief,  both  for  the  loss  of 
such  a  daughter  and  because  the  blow  was  so  sudden 
and  unexpected.  We  know  that  it  will  be  a  great 
shock  to  your  heart,  but  we  must  bear  with  patience 
the  trials  that  are  sent  us  here,  and  bow  to  the 
unalterable  laws  of  nature.  We  entreat  you,  therefore, 
to  bear  this  loss  with  patience  and  courage,  and  assure 
you  that  you  will  be  no  less  beloved  by  us  in  future, 
than  if  Bianca  were  yet  alive."  l 

At  the  same  time  Lodovico  sent  a  characteristic 
letter  to  his  most  trusted  physician  and  astrologer, 
Maestro  Ambrogio,  begging  him  to  make  a  careful 
inquiry  into  the  causes  of  Bianca's  death,  and  express- 
ing his  conviction  that  the  Court  doctors  had  mis- 
taken the  nature  of  her  ailment  and  had  given  her 
wine  and  other  remedies,  which  being  hurtful  to  the 
brain,  only  aggravated  her  condition  and  hastened  the 
end. 

Beatrice's  grief  for  her  step-daughter  was  scarcely 
less  than  that  of  her  lord.  During  the  last  few 
months,  her  own  life  had  been  embittered  by  the 
Duke's  sudden  fancy  for  one  of  her  youthful  ladies- 
in-waiting,  Lucrezia  Crivelli,  and  the  tears  that  she 
wept  for  Bianca  were  mingled  with  sorrowful  fore- 
bodings of  coming  trouble.  In  a  little  note,  written 

1  Archivio  di  Stato,  Milan.     Potenze  Sovrane,  Sforza,  1496. 
193  N 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

from  Vigevano,   she  told  her  sister  Isabella  the   sad 
news  in  these  touching  words : 

"  Although  my  lord  Duke  will  no  doubt  himself 
inform  you  of  the  premature  death  of  Madonna 
Bianca,  his  daughter  and  the  wife  of  Messer  Galeaz, 
I  must  write  a  few  lines  with  my  own  hand,  to  tell 
you  how  great  is  the  distress  and  trouble  which  her 
death  has  caused  me.  The  loss  indeed  is  greater 
than  I  can  express,  because  of  the  place  which  she 
held  in  my  heart.  May  God  have  her  soul  in  His 
keeping."  l 

The  same  lamentations  were  heard  on  all  sides. 
Niccolo  da  Correggio,  Beatrice's  loyal  courtier,  wrote 
an  elegy  on  Bianca's  death,  in  which  he  gave  ex- 
pression to  the  general  sorrow  that  was  felt  for  the 
dear  maid  who  had  gone  to  join  the  blessed  spirits, 
in  the  flower  of  her  youth,  and  for  the  gallant 
husband  whom  a  cruel  fate  had  so  early  robbed  of 
his  bride.  Even  the  dull,  cold  Empress  Bianca  was 
deeply  moved,  and  in  a  letter  which  she  wrote  to 
her  uncle,  expressed  the  greatest  regret  for  the  loss 
of  "  this  beloved  cousin  and  sister."  Her  imperial 
lord  showed  heartfelt  sympathy  for  the  bereaved 
father,  when  Lodovico  and  Beatrice  met  him  at 
Pavia,  clad  in  deep  mourning.  All  the  festivities  in 
honour  of  his  visit  were  countermanded,  and  Lodo- 

1  Luzlo-Remier  in  Archivio  St.  Lomb.^  xvii.  639. 

i94 


BIANCA   SFORZA 

vico  availed  himself  of  the  excuse  to  take  his  leave 
shortly  and  return  to  Milan  with  his  wife.  Everyone 
noticed  the  change  in  the  young  Duchess,  who  seemed 
to  have  lost  all  her  usual  spirits  and  remained  plunged 
in  silent  grief.  She  visited  Santa  Maria  delle  Grazie 
daily,  and  spent  many  hours  in  prayer  before  the 
altar  where  Bianca  slept.  On  the  2nd  of  January 
she  drove  to  the  church  as  usual,  and  lingered  long  by 
her  step-daughter's  grave,  rapt  in  sorrowful  musings, 
heedless  of  the  entreaties  of  her  ladies,  who  begged 
her  to  come  away.  The  same  night  she  breathed 
her  last,  after  giving  birth  to  a  dead  son,  and  the 
following  evening  she  was  laid  to  rest  before  the  high 
altar,  where  she  had  lately  been  kneeling  at  Bianca's 
tomb. 

The  Duke's  grief  for  the  wife  whom  in  spite  of 
neglect  and  unkindness  he  held  dearer  than  life — 
"  la  sua  amantissima  Duchessa  " — was  deep  and 
lasting,  and  his  constancy  amazed  both  friends  and 
foes.  On  that  fatal  evening,  when  the  French  were 
at  the  gates  of  Milan  and  Lodovico  was  about  to 
fly  for  his  life,  he  spent  the  last  hour  before  his 
departure  in  prayer  by  Beatrice's  grave,  and  turned 
back  three  times  to  take  a  farewell  look  at  the  church 
which  held  the  ashes  of  the  wife  and  daughter 
whom  he  had  loved  so  well. 

In    these    dark    days,    Bianca's    widowed    husband, 

I9S 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Galeazzo,  remained  faithful  to  his  father-in-law,  what- 
ever may  have  been  said  or  written  to  the  contrary. 
He  was  more  of  a  carpet-knight  than  a  leader  of 
men,  and  his  generalship  does  not  appear  to  have 
been  of  a  high  order,  while  the  defection  of  his 
brother,  the  Count  of  Caiazzo,  with  the  best  part  of 
the  ducal  army,  was  a  heavy  blow.  But  his  personal 
courage  and  loyalty  were  beyond  suspicion,  and  if,  even 
then,  Lodovico  had  followed  his  son-in-law's  advice, 
and  put  himself  at  the  head  of  his  remaining  forces, 
his  fortunes  might  yet  have  been  retrieved.  Un- 
fortunately, at  this  critical  moment  the  Moro's  nerve 
failed  him,  and  he  fled  across  the  Alps,  leaving  the 
Castello,  with  all  its  stores  and  treasures,  to  be 
betrayed  to  the  French  by  a  faithless  servant. 
Galeazzo  followed  the  Duke  into  exile,  and  after 
taking  a  leading  part  in  Lodovico's  desperate  attempt 
to  recover  Milan,  shared  his  captivity  when,  after 
the  catastrophe  of  Novara,  he  fell  into  the  hands  of 
the  Swiss.  More  fortunate  than  the  Moro,  Galeazzo 
was  ransomed  a  few  weeks  later  by  his  powerful 
relatives,  and  joined  the  other  Milanese  exiles  at  the 
Imperial  Court.  In  October  1501  the  Venetian, 
Marino  Sanudo,  met  him  at  Trent,  and  describes  him 
as  clad  in  deep  mourning  and  looking  very  pale,  with 
empty  pockets  and  a  sorrowful  mien.  "  The  Germans," 

adds  Sanudo,   "  hold   him    of  small  account,  but  he 

196 


BIANCA   SFORZA 

is  always  with  His  Imperial  Majesty,  who  seems  very 
fond  of  him."  1 

In  the  following  year  Galeazzo  was  sent  to  Paris  by 
the  Emperor  to  conduct  negotiations  for  the  release  of 
Lodovico  with  the  French  King,  and  exerted  himself 
actively  on  the  captive  prince's  behalf.  But  on  this 
point  Louis  XII  was  inflexible,  and  when  all  efforts  to 
obtain  the  unhappy  Duke's  deliverance  proved  vain, 
the  good  offices  of  Cardinal  di  San  Severino  obtained 
leave  for  his  brother  to  return  to  Milan.  Here 
Galeazzo  quickly  won  the  friendship  of  the  powerful 
Viceroy,  Georges  d'Amboise,  Cardinal  de  Rouen,  who 
in  1505  gave  him  back  the  houses  and  lands  which  he 
had  formerly  owned,  including  his  wife's  dower-city  of 
Voghera.  A  year  later  he  followed  the  Cardinal  to  the 
French  Court,  where  he  soon  rose  high  in  the  King's 
favour,  and  was  appointed  Grand  Ecuyer,  and  Knight 
of  the  Order  of  S.  Michel.  In  1507,  he  accompanied 
Louis  to  Milan,  and  was  a  conspicuous  figure  in  the 
tournament  that  was  held  on  the  Piazza  del  Castello, 
the  scene  of  his  former  exploits.  Here  he  met  many 
old  friends  whom  he  had  known  at  Lodovico's  Court 
— the  painter  Leonardo  and  the  Marchioness  Isabella, 
who  was  herself  present  at  the  banquet  in  the  Rocchetta, 
and  with  the  strange  callousness  that  marked  the  men 
and  women  of  this  age,  danced  with  King  Louis  in  the 

1  Diarii,  iv.  129. 
197 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

very  halls  which  had  been  the  home  of  her  lamented 
sister. 

For  a  long  time  Galeazzo  remained  faithful  to 
Bianca's  memory,  and  refused  many  brilliant  offers  of 
marriage,  including  one  from  Caterina  Sforza,  the 
famous  Madonna  of  Forli,  who  proposed  to  give  him 
her  daughter's  hand.  But  after  his  return  to  Milan 
with  the  French,  he  married  a  lady  of  the  house  of 
Carretto,  the  daughter  of  the  Marchese  del  Finale,  and 
spent  most  of  his  time  at  Genoa.1  He  afterwards 
became  a  great  favourite  of  Francis  I,  and  accompanied 
this  monarch  in  all  his  campaigns.  But  he  still  re- 
mained on  friendly  terms  with  the  Gonzagas,  and  was 
always  a  welcome  guest  at  the  courts  of  Mantua  and 
Urbino. 

Castiglione,  who  had  known  Messer  Galeaz  in  his 
most  triumphant  days,  when  "  the  flower  of  the  men  of 
this  world  were  assembled  in  the  Castello  of  Milan," 
always  looked  upon  him  as  a  peerless  knight,  and 
enshrined  his  name,  as  the  mirror  of  chivalry,  in  the 
pages  of  his  Cortegiano.  To  the  last  Galeazzo  retained 
his  courage  and  skill  as  a  rider  and  jouster,  until  he 
died,  fighting  by  his  royal  master's  side,  on  the  fatal 
field  of  Pavia.  A  young  squire,  who  saw  him  fall  from 
his  horse,  rushed  to  the  rescue,  but  the  hero  only  shook 
his  head  and  told  him  that  it  was  too  late.  "  Go  to  the 

1  F.  Sansovino,  Delia  Or igine  delle  famigli  illustri  d"> Italia,  316. 

198 


BIANCA   SFORZA 

King's  help,"  he  said  with  a  smile,  "  and  tell  the  world 
that  I  died  a  soldier's  death."  An  hour  later  he 
breathed  his  last  in  the  park  at  Mirabello,  within  sight 
of  the  Castello  where  some  of  his  happiest  days  had 
been  spent  with  his  child-wife,  Bianca  Sforza. 


199 


THE  CERTOSA  OF  VAL  D'EMA, 
FLORENCE 

"Great  are  the  pleasures  of  the  monks  who  dwell  there,  greater  still 
are  the  pleasures  of  those  who  having  seen  all  can  go  away." — Pius  II. 

ON  the  Siena  road,  three  miles  from  the  Porta 
Romana,  stands  the  ancient  Certosa  of  Florence. 
Less  famous  than  her  sister  of  Pavia,  the  Tuscan 
monastery  is  rich  in  historical  interest  and  treasures 
of  art.  She  has  her  paintings,  her  tombs,  and 
sculptures  ;  round  her  walls  cluster  the  traditions  of 
many  ages  ;  illustrious  dead  rest  within  her  churches. 
Inferior  to  her  rival  in  architectural  splendour,  the 
beauty  of  her  situation  far  surpasses  that  of  the  Pavian 
Certosa.  Placed  on  the  summit  of  a  picturesque  hill 
in  an  angle  formed  by  the  junction  of  the  torrents  of 
Ema  and  Greve,  the  imposing  range  of  her  build- 
ings, with  towers,  battlements,  and  Gothic  windows, 
strikes  the  eye  of  the  traveller,  and  appears  to  him 
some  grand  mediaeval  fortress  crowning  the  heights. 
Olive  and  cypress  groves  grow  along  the  hillside  ; 
at  its  feet  nestles  the  little  village  of  Galluzzo,  which 
Dante  sung  of  long  ago  ;  and  on  either  side  of  the 
torrent  fair  Val  d'Ema  spreads  her  gardens  of  rose, 

and  vine,  and  corn.     From  their  cloisters  the  monks 

200 


THE    CERTOSA   OF    FLORENCE 

of  the  Certosa  look  down  on  the  valley  of  Florence. 
They  can  see  suns  set  over  her  towers  and  the  violet 
glow  of  the  plains  reaching  out  towards  Pistoja  and 
the  Apennines.  Beyond,  behind  the  topmost  tiers 
of  Giotto's  campanile,  rises  the  white-walled  steep  of 
Fiesole,  and  far  away  on  the  right,  often  fringed  with 
snow,  are  the  mountains  of  Vallombrosa.  All  around 
are  great  memories,  scenes  and  names  celebrated  in 
Florentine  story.  On  the  opposite  hills  stands  Poggio 
Imperiale,  the  villa  of  the  Grand  Dukes,  with  its  long 
avenue  of  ilex  and  cypress  ;  further  on  are  the  tower 
where  Galileo  watched  the  stars,  and  San  Miniato, 
from  whose  ramparts  Michelangelo  defended  the 
republic.  Older  than  any  of  these,  already  famous 
in  days  when  the  Medici  and  Michelangelo  were  un- 
heard of,  the  Certosa  was  founded  by  a  Florentine  of 
an  earlier  age,  a  man  who,  although  he  left  his  home 
young  to  become  great  in  another  sphere,  never  forgot 
that  he  was  a  citizen  of  Florence,  and  came  back  at 
last  to  be  laid  in  his  own  convent  on  Tuscan  soil. 

Few  figures  in  the  history  of  the  fourteenth  cen- 
tury command  our  attention  more  than  that  of 
Niccolo  Acciaiuoli,  Grand  Seneschal  of  the  kingdom 
of  Naples.  We  see  him  conspicuous  among  the 
crowd  of  petty  destinies  around  him,  firm  and  unmoved 
as  a  rock  in  the  midst  of  confusion  and  strife,  control- 
ling conflicting  elements  by  the  force  of  his  character, 
retrieving  the  fortunes  of  a  royal  house,  and  saving  a 

201 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

kingdom  from  anarchy  by  his  single  exertions*  We 
see  him  by  turns  successful  as  a  general,  eminent  as 
a  statesman,  distinguished  by  an  unalterable  fidelity 
to  his  prince,  splendid  in  his  alms  and  foundations, 
the  patron  of  learning,  the  friend  of  Petrarch. 

To  this  remarkable  man  the  Certosa  of  Val  d'Ema 
owes  her  existence.  The  whole  story  of  her  founda- 
tion is  so  closely  connected  with  Niccoli's  fortunes, 
and  forms  so  interesting  an  episode  in  his  career,  that 
a  brief  sketch  of  his  life  may  not  be  out  of  place  here. 

Originally  steel  workers  driven  from  Brescia  by  the 
invasion  of  Barbarossa,  the  Acciaiuoli  were  already  one 
of  the  most  powerful  of  Florentine  merchant-houses 
when  in  1310  Niccol6  was  born  at  a  villa  on  the  hill  of 
Montegufoni,  in  Val  di  Pesa,  some  miles  to  the  west 
of  Florence.  His  father,  Acciaiuolo  Acciaiuoli,  married 
him  to  Margherita  degli  Spini  at  the  age  of  eighteen, 
and  three  years  afterwards  sent  him  to  Naples,  where 
he  had  opened  a  house  for  the  purpose  of  advancing 
loans  to  King  Robert.  Here  the  striking  beauty  of  his 
person,  his  chivalrous  accomplishments  and  ready  wit, 
won  general  favour  at  court,  and  attracted  the  notice 
of  Robert,  who  appointed  him  guardian  of  his  nephews, 
the  young  sons  of  Catherine,  the  widowed  princess  of 
Taranto,  and  titular  Empress  of  Constantinople.  In 
1338  he  led  a  successful  expedition  into  Greece  to 

recover   the   dominions   of   these    princes   from   the 

202 


THE   CERTOSA   OF    FLORENCE 

Turks,  on  which  occasion  he  first  displayed  his  mili- 
tary and  administrative  talents.  Having  conquered 
the  Morea,  and  obtained  the  recognition  of  Catherine's 
eldest  son  Robert  as  Prince  of  Achaia,  at  the  end  of 
three  years  Niccolo  returned  to  Naples,  where  he  was 
received  with  great  honour,  and  sent  as  ambassador 
to  Florence. 

It  was  during  this  visit  to  his  native  city  that  he 
founded  the  Certosa.  Already,  as  he  took  farewell 
of  his  wife  and  children  when  starting  on  his  perilous 
expedition  against  the  Turks,  the  wish  to  build  a 
convent  near  Florence  had  arisen  in  his  mind,  as 
we  know  from  the  will  he  left  behind  him — a  curious 
and.  elaborate  document,  of  which  the  original  Italian 
version  is  still  preserved  in  the  archives  of  the  Certosa. 
After  providing  for  his  wife  and  children,  and  direct- 
ing alms  to  be  given  and  masses  to  be  said  not  only 
for  his  own  soul,  but  for  every  member  of  his  family 
with  the  most  scrupulous  care,  he  proceeds  to  set 
apart  a  portion  of  his  revenue  for  the  endowment  of 
this  Certosa  to  be  erected  on  a  site  chosen  by  a  certain 
Carthusian  monk,  Frate  Amico,  under  the  patronage 
of  his  four  favourite  saints,  Messer  Michele  Agnolo, 
Messer  Niccol6,  Lorenzo,  and  Benedetto.  "  And  I 
beg  of  you,  Acciaiuolo,  my  father,"  he  adds,  "  to 
execute  faithfully  my  will  in  this  respect,  and  to  have 

more  care  of  my  soul  and  yours  than  of  my  sons,  for 

203 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

if  they  are  honest  they  will  have  greater  possessions 
than  they  need,  and  if  they  are  worthless  they  will 
not  remember  my  soul,  and  it  will  be  better  they  should 
have  little  than  much,  therefore  I  ask  you  for  God's 
sake  to  provide  well  for  my  soul  and  your  own." 

Niccol6's  resolve  proved  more  sincere  than  most 
pious  intentions,  and  no  sooner  had  he  returned  safely 
from  his  crusade,  than  without  a  moment's  delay  he 
applied  himself  to  the  execution  of  his  plan. 

On  the  8th  of  February  1342  the  deed  of  gift  was 
drawn  up  by  which  he  endowed  the  Carthusian  monks 
with  all  his  lands  in  Val  d'Ema  ;  and  immediately 
afterwards,  or  it  may  have  been  even  before,  the 
foundations  of  the  new  monastery  were  laid  on  the 
hill — Monte  Aguto,  between  the  rivers  Greve  and 
Ema.  Convent-church  and  buildings  were  at  once 
begun  on  a  large  scale  ;  but  the  name  of  the  architect 
of  the  Certosa  is  still  unknown.  Tradition  ascribes 
this  honour  to  Orgagna,  but  Vasari,  in  his  life  of  this 
artist,  owns  that  the  true  architect  has  never  been 
discovered ;  and  it  seems  more  probable  that  a  Car- 
thusian monk,  Fra  Jacopo  Passavanti,  to  whom  fre- 
quent allusion  is  made  in  Niccol6's  letters,  furnished 
the  plans.  While  the  walls  of  the  Certosa  were  slowly 
rising  from  the  ground,  public  events  occupied  all  the 
founder's  attention,  and  diverted  his  thoughts  for  a 

time  from  his  favourite  project. 

204 


THE   CERTOSA   OF   FLORENCE 

The  death  of  King  Robert  in  1343,  and  the  acces- 
sion of  his  daughter  Joanna  and  her  weak  husband, 
Andrea  of  Hungary,  plunged  the  kingdom  of  Naples 
into  a  state  of  anarchy,  deplored  by  Petrarch  in  his 
letters.  Two  years  afterwards  Andrea  was  murdered, 
whether  with  or  without  the  Queen's  connivance  ; 
and  at  the  end  of  another  two  years  Joanna  married 
Louis  of  Taranto,  the  second  of  the  Empress  Cather- 
ine's sons.  From  the  time  of  Robert's  death  Niccol6 
had  taken  no  part  in  public  affairs,  but  he  appears  to 
have  been  instrumental  in  bringing  about  this  marriage, 
in  which  he  probably  saw  not  only  the  advancement  of 
his  pupil  to  the  throne,  but  the  best  hope  for  the 
peace  of  the  realm.  At  first,  however,  the  conse- 
quences of  the  step  proved  disastrous  to  the  parties 
concerned.  The  barons  rose  in  arms  against  the 
Queen  ;  the  King  of  Hungary,  armed  with  Papal  ex- 
communications, invaded  Naples  as  the  avenger  of 
his  brother's  murder.  Joanna  took  ship  for  Provence  ; 
and  Louis  of  Taranto,  deserted  by  all  his  followers 
saving  the  faithful  Niccol6,  fled  with  him  to  Siena, 
and  found  a  refuge  in  Acciaiuoli's  own  villa  at  Monte 
Gufoni.  While  the  two  wandered  from  city  to  city, 
vainly  endeavouring  to  obtain  supplies  of  men  and 
money,  the  Hungarian  king  became  master  of  Naples, 
and  all  the  fortresses  in  the  country  were  surrendered 

into  his  hands,  with  the  single  exception  of  the  citadel 

205 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

of  Melfi,  which  Niccoli's  eldest  son,  Lorenzo,  then 
scarcely  more  than  a  boy,  defended  valiantly  during  a 
long  siege.  But  the  victor's  triumph  was  destined  to 
prove  of  short  duration,  and  in  a  few  months,  alarmed 
by  an  outbreak  of  plague  at  Naples,  he  returned  home, 
leaving  a  German  governor  to  rule  the  province. 

Meanwhile,  Niccol6  having  successfully  pleaded 
Louis  and  Joanna's  cause  at  Avignon,  and  collected  a 
fleet  at  his  own  expense,  landed  at  Naples  with  the 
king  and  queen,  who  entered  the  city  in  the  month 
of  August  1348.  They  found  the  unhappy  kingdom 
a  prey  to  the  ravages  of  Hungarians  and  free  com- 
panies, but  by  degrees  the  efforts  of  Niccolo,  now 
Grand  Seneschal  of  the  realm,  met  with  success,  and 
at  length,  on  the  27 th  of  May  1352,  Louis  of  Taranto 
was  crowned  at  Naples  with  great  solemnity. 

It  was  on  this  occasion  that  Petrarch  —  who, 
although  not  personally  acquainted  with  Niccol6,  had 
been  seized  with  admiration  for  his  great  qualities, 
and  saw  in  him  the  deliverer  of  Naples — addressed 
his  famous  letter  to  the  Grand  Seneschal,  congratu- 
lating him  on  the  triumph  of  his  arms,  and  giving 
him  admirable  advice  for  the  guidance  of  his  royal 
pupil  in  all  things  necessary  to  his  own  welfare  and 
public  good. 

"  At  length,  you  have  conquered,  O  Signor,"  he 
begins  ;   "  at  length  the  battle  ceases,  treachery  yields 

206 


THE   CERTOSA   OF   FLORENCE 

to  faith,  pride  to  humility,  despair  to  hope,  and, 
vanquished  by  the  power  of  fortitude,  every  obstacle 
disappears.  Lately  we  saw  you  offer  an  heroic  re- 
sistance to  the  frowns  of  Fortune  ;  now  we  behold 
you  her  conqueror.  Now  the  royal  youth — sole  object 
of  your  cares  and  efforts — receives  the  crown,  and 
before  his  countenance  the  clouds  which  darkened  the 
face  of  Italy  shall  melt  away,  the  tears  of  the  nation 
shall  be  dried,  and  lost  peace — long  sighed  after— 
shall  return  to  the  distracted  kingdom." 

He  goes  on  to  inform  both  king  and  minister  that 
as  the  rose  is  surrounded  by  thorns  so  the  path  of 
glory  is  beset  with  difficulties,  and  exhorts  Louis  to 
follow  the  examples  of  his  uncle,  King  Robert,  and 
to  learn  of  Niccol6  piety  towards  God,  love  of  his 
country,  and  the  practice  of  virtue,  advice  which 
Petrarch  lived  to  regret  had  been  given  in  vain. 

Numerous  letters,  still  extant,  bear  witness  to 
the  friendship  which  existed  between  Petrarch  and 
the  Grand  Seneschal,  and  prove  the  high  estimation 
in  which  this  distinguished  man  was  held  by  the  poet 
and  his  friends.  For  although  Niccolo's  life  had  been 
spent  in  the  active  discharge  of  public  duties  both  in 
camp  and  court,  his  natural  genius  supplied  the  want 
of  scholarship,  and  there  was  a  grace  and  charm  about 
his  letters  that  excited  the  wonder  of  Petrarch,  and 
made  him  declare,  in  writing  to  another  friend,  that 

eloquence  was  more  the  fruit  of  nature  than  of  study. 

207 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

But  the  great  soldier  was  far  from  despising  learning  ; 
on  the  contrary,  he  devoted  every  moment  of  leisure 
to  the  study  not  only  of  contemporary  but  of  ancient 
literature.  We  find  him  quoting  Seneca  and  bringing 
forward  numerous  instances  from  Roman  history  in 
his  letters,  while  Boccaccio  relates  how,  during  his 
wars  in  Sicily,  he  actually  composed  a  history  of  the 
Crusades  in  the  French  language,  of  which,  unfor- 
tunately, nothing  more  is  known.  Above  all,  he 
delighted  in  the  society  of  poets  and  men  of  letters, 
and  endeavoured  by  every  means  in  his  power  to  bring 
Petrarch  to  live  at  Naples,  sending  him  the  most 
pressing  invitations  again  and  again,  and  promising 
him  a  new  Parnassus  between  Salerno  and  Vesuvius. 
In  this  he  never  succeeded,  but  many  of  Petrarch's 
dearest  friends,  Francesco  Nelli,  Zanobi  da  Strada, 
Giovanni  Barili,  were  his  constant  guests  and  chosen 
companions.  So  also  at  times  was  Boccaccio,  who, 
although  he  frequently  lived  at  his  charge  and  dedi- 
cated his  work  on  illustrious  women  to  Niccol6,  was 
not  always  satisfied  with  the  treatment  he  received 
from  the  Grand  Seneschal's  dependants,  and  makes 
bitter  complaints  of  the  neglect  he  suffered  on  one 
occasion.  But  of  all  these,  the  friend  whom  Niccolo 
most  loved  and  valued  was  Zanobi  da  Strada,  a  Floren- 
tine poet,  who,  little  known  to  posterity,  seems  to 

have  been  famous  in  his  own  day  and  received  the 

208 


THE    CERTOSA   OF    FLORENCE 

laurel  crown  from  the  hands  of  the  Emperor  Charles 
IV.  For  him  the  Grand  Seneschal  had  a  deep  and 
tender  affection,  which  nothing  could  ever  impair  ; 
and  the  letter  which  he  wrote  on  the  poet's  death  is  a 
touching  memorial  of  an  intimacy  honourable  to  both 
men.  Genuine  sorrow  for  his  friend  is  mingled  with 
lamentation  over  the  loss  sustained  by  the  world  in 
the  death  of  a  poet,  the  like  of  whom  had  not  arisen 
for  perhaps  a  thousand  years,  "  saving  only  one  other, 
Messer  Francesco  Petrarcho." 

"  No  gift  of  all  that  Fortune  has  bestowed  upon 
me  in  this  world  do  I  hold  equal  to  the  friendship  of 
this  man.  He  chose  me  and  I  chose  him  as  friend, 
in  all  things  our  souls  agreed  together.  Leaving  his 
country,  his  home,  and  his  kinsfolk,  at  my  request  he 
gladly  followed  me.  When  he  was  present  we  took 
sweet  counsel  together  ;  in  his  absence  his  letters 
were  my  joy  and  delight.  As  I  read  I  saw  my  friend 
and  felt  all  the  nobility  of  his  soul,  the  graces  with 
which  God  had  filled  this  divine  spirit.  But  since 
the  clearness  of  his  intellect  could  distinguish  things 
unseen  through  the  mists  of  this  life,  since  while  my 
excellent  friend  lived  he  saw  what  was  hidden  and 
recognised  the  vanity  of  this  world,  he  is  now  come 
to  the  place  where  he  lives  and  will  live  for  ever,  and 
I  am  there  with  him.  Inseparable  were  our  souls 
and  inseparable  will  they  remain." 

Like  the  poet  of  In  Memoriam,  he  notes  the  dif- 
ferent phases  of  grief,  and  from  the  contemplation 

209  o 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

of  all  that  made  his  friendship  pleasant,  from  regret 
for  all  that  has  been  and  can  never  be  again,  he  passes 
to  consider  the  high  teaching  of  death  and  the  many 
things  which  he  has  learnt  by  the  removal  of  his  friend 
to  another  life.  He  concludes  with  a  generous  assur- 
ance to  the  Florentine  Landolfo  to  whom  the  letter 
is  addressed,  and  who  had  been  intimate  with  Zanobi, 
that  he  will  henceforth  do  his  utmost  to  supply  his 
dead  friend's  place.  "  And  now,  since  the  time  is 
short,  and  the  space  between  Zanobi's  departure  and 
my  own  will  not  be  long,  I  will  say  no  more  but  this 
only,  that  another  Messer  Zanobi  remains  to  you, 
that  is  I,  the  great  Seneschal." 

Zanobi's  saying,  "  Qui  mortem  metuit  cupit  nihil," 
quoted  by  Niccolo  in  this  letter,  and  also  rendered, 
"Contemsit  omnia  ille  qui  mortem  prius,"  was  adopted 
by  him  as  his  motto,  and  is  still  to  be  seen  on  the 
Grand  Seneschal's  tomb  at  the  Certosa. 

It  is  this  gentler  side  of  Niccolo's  nature,  this 
strong  human  tenderness  breaking  out  here  and  there 
in  his  letters,  wherever  we  get  a  glimpse  of  his  inner 
feelings,  which  renders  his  character  so  attractive. 
And  as  in  his  friendships  so  in  all  his  private  relations, 
whether  as  husband,  son,  or  father,  we  find  the  same 
marks  of  deep  and  lasting  affection  for  those  connected 
with  him.  On  the  point  of  embarking  for  Greece  he 

sends  back  a  ring  to  his  wife,  Mona  Margherita,  and 

210 


THE   CERTOSA   OF   FLORENCE 

in  his  will  he  remembers  his  mother  long  dead,  and 
appoints  masses  to  be  said  for  her  soul.  As  long  as 
his  father  lived  he  paid  him  the  most  dutiful  attention, 
and  on  his  death  caused  his  remains  to  be  interred  in 
the  chapel  reserved  for  his  own  sepulchre  at  the 
Certosa,  where  Niccolo's  sister  Lapa,  for  whom  he 
had  an  especial  fondness,  is  also  buried.  With  the 
same  faithfulness  he  clung  to  everything  belonging 
to  his  early  days,  and  in  one  of  his  later  letters  he  stops 
in  the  details  of  business  to  tell  his  kinsman  to  buy 
back  the  houses  of  the  Acciaiuoli  at  Monte  Gufoni 
which  had  passed  into  other  hands,  "  if  they  are  not 
too  dear,"  since  he  would,  if  possible,  erect  a  chapel 
on  the  spot  where  he  was  born. 

All  through  his  life  he  retained  the  beauty  of 
countenance  and  majesty  of  bearing  which  distin- 
guished him  as  a  youth.  Fair-haired  and  of  tall 
stature,  with  a  broad,  serene  brow  and  a  peculiar 
brightness  in  his  eye,  his  presence  commanded  re- 
spect and  inspired  even  his  enemies  with  awe.  In 
the  corrupt  court  to  which  he  came  while  yet  a  youth, 
he  remained  untainted  by  the  evil  influences  around 
him,  and,  Sismondi  tells  us,  preserved  the  purity  of 
republican  morals.  The  exalted  station  which  he 
occupied  rendered  him  naturally  the  object  of  envy 
and  calumny,  but  he  recked  little  of  the  ill-will  shown 
him,  and  treated  slander  with  the  scorn  it  deserved. 

211 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

At  the  same  time  he  knew  how  to  forgive,  and  when 
wounded  by  a  Neapolitan,  who  resented  an  act  of 
justice  on  his  part,  himself  obtained  the  man's  pardon 
from  the  king.  Unfortunately,  with  all  these  fine 
qualities  there  was  a  haughtiness  about  him,  an  utter 
carelessness  of  the  opinion  of  men,  which  occasion- 
ally became  irritating  to  those  around  him,  and  was 
the  cause  of  quarrels  with  his  best  friends.  This  it 
was,  probably,  which  wounded  Boccaccio,  and  finally 
estranged  even  Petrarch.  In  the  same  way,  his  love 
of  splendour  gave  great  offence  on  one  occasion  to 
the  Florentines,  who  regarded  the  banquets  and  en- 
tertainments which  he  gave  in  their  city  as  ill  be- 
coming the  severity  of  republican  simplicity.  And 
yet  this  same  man,  who  delighted  in  stately  pageants 
and  splendid  festivities,  and  appeared  in  public 
in  a  silken  tunic  worked  with  feathers  and  gold,  was 
remarkable  in  private  life  for  the  simplicity  of  his 
attire  and  the  frugality  of  his  repasts,  being  often 
heard  to  say  that  state  was  to  be  used  not  for  the 
honour  of  the  individual,  but  for  the  dignity  of  the 
office  and  majesty  of  the  crown. 

But  there  was  in  reality  a  natural  magnificence 
about  the  man  which  appears  in  all  his  actions.  It 
was  not  only  that  he  took  pleasure  in  pomp  and  de- 
lighted to  accumulate  lands  and  titles,  but  everything 
he  did  was  marked  by  the  same  love  of  splendour  and 

212 


THE   CERTOSA   OF    FLORENCE 

planned  on  the  same  vastness  of  scale.  Churches, 
convents,  altars,  in  Greece,  in  Naples,  and  Tuscany 
are  to  perpetuate  his  name  ;  hundreds  of  poor  are  to 
be  clothed  yearly  in  memory  of  his  father  ;  masses 
to  be  said  by  thousands  for  the  repose  of  his  soul  and 
those  dear  to  him.  The  whole  of  his  lands  in  the 
Val  d'Ema  are  to  endow  the  Certosa,  and  the  convent 
itself  is  to  be  the  finest  in  Italy. 

The  real  greatness  of  the  man  was  best  shown  in 
the  hour  of  trial.  However  extreme  the  peril,  how- 
ever sudden  the  emergency,  his  serenity  never  forsook 
him.  His  fortitude  in  defeat  and  exile  excited  general 
admiration,  and  his  biographers  speak  with  wonder  of 
his  behaviour  on  hearing  of  his  son  Lorenzo's  death. 
This,  his  eldest  son,  described  as  "  a  youth  of  a  most 
lovely  countenance,  tried  in  arms,  and  eminent  for 
his  graceful  manners  and  his  gracious  and  noble 
aspect,"  was  Niccolo's  pride  and  joy,  the  darling  of 
his  heart,  and  hope  of  his  house.  Already  he  had 
won  his  first  laurels  in  the  defence  of  Melfi  ;  and  now 
he  had  received  the  honour  of  knighthood  and  been 
betrothed  to  a  daughter  of  the  proud  house  of  Sanse- 
verino,  when  a  sudden  death  cut  him  off  in  the  flower 
of  his  manhood.  The  Grand  Seneschal  was  at  Gaeta, 
providing  for  the  defence  of  the  realm,  when  the  news 
reached  him.  For  a  moment  his  constancy  forsook 
him,  and,  strong  man  as  he  was,  he  quailed  under  the 

213 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

blow.  His  head  sank  on  his  breast,  and  the  persons 
who  were  present  held  their  peace,  awestruck  in  the 
presence  of  his  great  sorrow.  Then  he  lifted  his 
head  slowly  and  stood  erect  before  them  all. 

"  My  grief  is  hard  to  bear,"  he  said,  "  because  I 
loved  him  too  well.  Yet,  dearly  as  I  loved  him,  I 
knew  that  he  must  die  some  day  ;  and  God,  who 
knows  best,  has  called  him  for  his  eternal  welfare. 
Farewell,  then  ;  since  it  is  His  will,  farewell  for  ever, 
my  most  dear  Lorenzo !  "  After  this  one  passionate 
cry  he  recovered  ;his  usual  serenity,  and  gave  orders 
that  his  son's  corpse  should  be  borne  to  Florence  to 
receive  the  last  honours, 

On  the  yth  of  April  1354  a  splendid  train  of 
knights  and  squires,  with  flying  banners  and  shields 
blazoned  with  the  Acciaiuoli  arms — a  silver  lion  ram- 
pant on  an  azure  field — issued  from  the  Porta  San 
Pier  Gattolini,  now  the  Porta  Romana,  followed 
by  the  noblest  citizens  of  Florence.  In  the  midst, 
on  a  bier  hung  with  crimson  velvet  and  cloth  of  gold, 
under  a  canopy  of  embroidered  silk,  the  body  of  the 
young  hero  was  borne  in  state,  surrounded  by  horse- 
men in  rich  attire  carrying  lighted  torches.  So  the 
procession  passed  along  Val  d'Ema  and  wound  its 
way  up  the  steep  hillside  to  the  gates  of  the  Certosa, 
where,  in  the  newly  erected  chapel  of  St.  Tobias, 

chosen  by  Niccolo  as  the  place  of   his  own  sepul- 

214 


Photo:  Alinari,  Florence 

TOMB   OF    LORENZO   ACCIAIUOLI 
(Certosa  di  Val  d'Ema) 


THE   CERTOSA   OF   FLORENCE 

chre,    the   last   remains   of   his   beloved   child   were 
laid. 

"  This  funeral,"  says  the  chronicler,  Matteo 
Villani,  from  whom  these  details  are  borrowed, 
"  magnificent  enough  for  any  prince,  were  he  even 
of  blood  royal,  we  have  recorded  because  it  was  a 
new  and  strange  thing  in  Florence,  which  excited 
much  attention,  and  cost  upwards  of  five  thousand 
gold  florins." 

At  the  close  of  the  funeral  solemnity,  Niccolo, 
turning  to  his  friends,  desired  them  henceforth  to 
speak  no  more  of  his  son's  sudden  and  bitter  end,  lest 
any  fresh  reminder  should  revive  the  old  pain.  His 
grief  thus  stifled,  he  returned  to  Naples  to  make  new 
conquests  and  subdue  more  enemies.  But  from  this 
time  his  letters  breathe  a  saddened  tone,  and  the  Cer- 
tosa  becomes  more  than  ever  the  object  of  his  interest. 
How  constantly  the  thought  of  his  convent,  now 
doubly  precious  to  him,  filled  his  mind,  how  yearn- 
ingly, amid  the  stress  of  public  business,  his  heart 
turned  to  that  "  place  of  blessed  repose,"  we  see  in 
the  letters  addressed  during  1355  and  1356  to  his 
kinsmen  Jacopo  Acciaiuoli  and  Andrea  Buondelmonti, 
whom  he  had  entrusted  with  the  superintendence  of 
the  works  still  in  progress  there. 

"  Jacopo,  I  say  to  you  that  all  my  consolations 
centre  in  our  monastery  ;  all  trouble  and  vexations 

215 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

bring  me  back  to  find  comfort  there.  When  I  think 
of  it,  anger  and  grief  flee  away.  I  possess  nothing 
that  is  really  my  own  but  this  Certosa,  and  if  I  had 
money  I  would  make  it  the  most  famous  place  in 
Italy  ;  but  if  I  live  four  more  years,  and  fortune  is 
not  too  contrary,  I  still  hope  that  I  may  be  able  to 
make  it  beautiful." 

For  this  purpose,  he  is  constantly  sending  large 
sums  of  money,  and  however  hard  pressed  he  finds 
himself,  repeats  his  injunctions  that  the  monastery 
is  on  no  account  to  suffer. 

"  Think  not,"  he  writes  again,  "  that  because  the 
work  is  costly  I  shall  like  it  less,  for  all  other  substance 
that  I  possess  will  pass  to  my  successors.  Who  they 
may  be  I  care  not,  but  this  monastery  with  all  its 
adornings  will  be  mine  for  all  time,  and  will  keep 
my  memory  green  and  everlasting  in  Florence.  And 
if,  as  Monsignor  the  Chancellor  (his  kinsman,  the 
Bishop  Angelo  Acciaiuoli)  has  it,  the  soul  is  immortal, 
my  soul  will  rejoice  over  this  Certosa,  wherever  she  is 
ordered  to  go.  Therefore,  I  pray  of  you  to  seek  the 
perfection  of  the  whole  as  much  as  lies  in  your  power, 
and  I  will  on  my  part  do  all  I  can  to  supply  you  with 
the  necessary  means." 

Nothing  is  to  be  neglected  ;  Niccolo  provides  in 
turn  for  the  fortification  of  the  convent,  a  very  neces- 
sary thing  in  those  stormy  days,  for  the  adorning  of  its 
altars  with  pearls  and  precious  stones,  for  the  building 

of  hospital,  forestiera,  and  halls  in  which  the  monks 

216 


THE   CERTOSA   OF    FLORENCE 

may  practise  different  trades,  and  for  spacious  gardens 
where  they  may  take  recreation.     Annexed  to  the 
monastery  was   a   noble  building,  with  battlements 
and  a  quadrangle,  destined  to  receive  fifty  scholars 
with  professors   and  lecturers,  for  whose  use   Nic- 
colo   had    formed   a    large   library   of    manuscripts, 
but  this  institution  was  unfortunately  not  kept  up 
by  the  Grand   Seneschal's   heirs.      What,  however, 
occupied  his  attention  more  than  all  at  this  time  was 
the   building  of   a  house   adjoining   the  monastery, 
which  he  intended  as  a  residence  for  himself.      He 
dwells  with  the  greatest  delight  and  affection  on  this 
his  "  dear  abitaculo,  from  which  he  would  not  part, 
for  all  the  lands  round  Florence,"  and  gives  the  minu- 
test directions  for   the    building  of   kitchen,  loggia, 
halls,  and  even  chimney-pieces.     Everything  is  to  be 
broad  and  spacious,  the  garden  as  beautiful  as  it  is 
possible  to  make  it,  the  vaulting  of  the  rooms  very 
lofty,  since  in  his  eyes  the  finest  feature  in  a  building 
is  great  height  and  space.     In  all  his  letters  he  presses 
on  the  completion  of  his  "  abitaculo"  and  expresses 
his  anxiety  that  all  should  be  ready  when  the  time 
comes  for  him  to  leave  public  life.     Then,  if  only 
God  grant  him  this  desire  of  his  heart,  he  hopes  to 
retire  there  and  spend  his  last  days  unvexed  by  the 
clash  of  arms  and  the  turmoil  of  the  world,  in  this 

peaceful  retreat,  with  only  the  company  of  the  monks, 

217 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

the  quiet  round  of  the  Church's  offices,  and  the  loveli- 
ness of  Val  d'Ema  to  be  his  solace. 

But  this  time  never  came.  To  the  end  of  his  days 
he  led  the  same  busy,  active  life  ;  and  a  hurried  visit 
here  and  there  was  all  that  he  had  to  bestow  on  his 
beloved  Certosa.  Neither  king  nor  realm  could  spare 
him.  Louis  and  Joanna  were  both  too  incapable  to 
govern  alone  ;  and  "  whenever,"  says  Villani,  "  the 
virtue  of  this  man  was  absent  from  court,  affairs 
went  ill." 

From  the  grave  of  his  son  he  had  gone  straight  to 
Sicily,  to  conquer  that  island  from  the  Aragonese, 
and  had  already  subdued  Palermo  and  Messina,  when 
he  was  recalled  and  sent  as  ambassador  to  the  Emperor 
Charles  IV,  whose  descent  into  Italy  had  created 
general  alarm.  His  mission  met  with  complete  suc- 
cess ;  and  the  Emperor  not  only  paid  him  the  highest 
honours  and  kept  him  to  attend  his  coronation  at 
Rome,  but  tried  to  induce  him  to  accompany  him  on 
his  return  to  Germany,  an  invitation  which  Niccolo, 
faithful  to  his  old  allegiance,  refused  to  accept.  On 
another  occasion,  when  he  was  sent  to  the  Papal  Court 
at  Avignon  in  1360,  Innocent  VI  presented  him  with 
the  golden  rose,  a  mark  of  special  favour  hitherto  re- 
served for  royal  personages.  From  Avignon  he  went 
to  Milan  to  negotiate  a  peace  between  the  Pope  and 

Bernabo  Visconti,  and  there  sought  out  his  old  friend 

218 


THE    CERTOSA   OF    FLORENCE 

Petrarch  in  his  retreat  at  the  monastery  of  S.  Sim- 
pliciano,  two  miles  from  the  town.  This  meeting 
between  the  Grand  Seneschal  and  the  poet,  who  had 
so  long  admired  and  honoured  him,  is  best  described 
in  Petrarch's  own  letter  to  Zanobi  da  Strada  : 

"  Thy  Mecenas  has  paid  a  visit  to  my  Augustus, 
and  also,  I  am  proud  to  say,  to  me.  Without  fear  of 
stooping  from  his  high  station,  twice  he  entered  my 
library,  regardless  of  the  crowd  which  thronged  around 
him,  or  the  multitude  of  affairs  and  inconvenience  of 
the  distance,  which  to  say  the  truth  is  great.  Such 
were  the  majesty  of  his  bearing,  the  courtesy  of  his 
manner,  the  earnestness  of  the  first  silence,  and  the 
first  words,  that  not  only  myself,  but  all  the  illus- 
trious personages  present,  were  filled  with  reverence, 
and  almost  moved  to  tears.  He  was  pleased  to 
examine  the  books  which  are  my  companions,  and 
here  we  reasoned  of  many  things,  but  more  than  all 
of  thee.  Nor  did  he  remain  a  short  time,  as  is  the 
custom  of  those  who  pay  visits,  but  stayed  so  long 
with  me  that  you  would  have  thought  he  could  hardly 
tear  himself  away,  and  by  his  presence  he  gave  this 
poor  threshold  such  splendour  that  it  will  certainly 
be  famous  for  all  time  ;  and  all  who  come  to  see  it, 
not  only  Romans  and  Florentines,  but  every  lover  of 
virtue,  will  regard  it  with  devout  veneration.  Of 
him  what  more  shall  I  tell  you  ?  All  this  royal  city 
was  moved  with  joy  at  his  coming,  and  from  that 
serene  brow  joy  and  calm  seemed  to  radiate.  Wel- 
comed by  the  Duke,  beloved  by  the  people,  even  more 
dear  to  me,  although  I  loved  him  so  well  before  that  I 

219 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

held  it  scarcely  possible  to  love  him  better  ;  so  nobly 
did  he  bear  himself,  that  the  fame  of  him  whom  I  had 
not  seen  was  not  diminished,  but  greatly  increased  by 
his  presence.  Live,  therefore,  happy  in  the  posses- 
sion of  such  a  friend,  and  remember  me." 

Unfortunately,  this  friendship  did  not  long  sur- 
vive Zanobi's  death,  which  happened  in  the  following 
year  in  1362.  Indeed,  Petrarch  wrote  again  to  the 
Grand  Seneschal,  congratulating  him  on  the  conquest 
of  Sicily  which  he  had  achieved,  and  rejoicing  that 
he  was  allowed  to  call  him  friend. 

"  It  would  take  the  pen  of  Homer  to  record  the 
glorious  deeds  by  which  you  have  restored  peace  to 
Sicily,  and  made  Naples  happy.  Now  Arethusa  wakes 
to  new  joy,  Etna  restrains  her  fury,  and  Charybdis 
becomes  mild  out  of  reverence  for  your  person.  Con- 
tinue, O  great  one,  your  illustrious  career,  adorned 
by  so  many  virtues,  more  than  all  by  that  modesty 
which  is  your  most  splendid  ornament,  and  which 
suffers  me  to  call  you  friend." 

He  concludes  by  alluding  to  the  death  of   King 
Louis,  which  had  lately  happened  : 

"  Ah  !  forgive  me,"  he  exclaims,  "  forgive  me  if  in 
my  grief  I  say  that  had  he  lived  obediently  to  your 
counsels  he  would  have  led  a  happier  life,  met  death 
gladlier,  and  left  a  fairer  memory  behind  him." 

In  the  following  year  comes  a  letter  of  a  differ- 
ent strain.  Niccol6,  it  appears,  had  omitted  to  do 

220 


THE    CERTOSA   OF   FLORENCE 

him  some  service  he  had  asked,  some  trifling  favour 
that  he  had  requested,  whether  for  himself  or  for  a 
friend,  and,  worse  than  this,  had  neglected  to  answer 
two  previous  letters  on  the  subject.  The  poet  had 
lately  lost  several  of  his  dearest  friends,  Nelli,  Zanobi, 
and  others,  which  partly  accounts  for  the  querulous 
tone  in  which  he  writes.  He  upbraids  Niccol6  bitterly 
with  injustice  and  neglect,  and  after  warning  him  that, 
in  spite  of  all  his  greatness,  he  too  is  mortal,  concludes 
with  the  words  :  "  Friendship  is  a  fair  and  noble 
thing,  but  she  requires  much  to  be  real.  Nothing  is 
easier  than  to  call  oneself  a  friend,  nothing  harder 
than  to  be  one.  Farewell,  and  forgive  me  if  I  speak 
too  freely." 

It  would  be  interesting  to  know  how  the  Grand 
Seneschal  answered  this  letter,  but,  unfortunately, 
nothing  after  this  is  heard  of  their  correspondence, 
and  we  are  left  to  suppose  that  it  ceased.  Probably 
when  Niccol6  received  Petrarch's  complaint  he  was 
too  deeply  engaged  to  give  it  his  attention,  for,  since 
the  king's  death  the  management  of  the  kingdom 
rested  entirely  in  the  hands  of  the  Grand  Seneschal, 
who  proved  as  faithful  a  servant  to  Joanna  as  he  had 
been  to  her  husband.  Under  his  wise  rule  commerce 
began  to  revive  and  prosperity  to  return  to  the  king- 
dom so  long  torn  by  civil  wars  and  divisions. 

But  even  now  there  were  not  wanting  slanderous 

221 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

tongues  to  malign  the  great  man,  and  the  less  his 
enemies  dared  use  open  violence,  the  more  malice  did 
they  bear  against  him.  It  was  to  refute  these  slanders 
and  to  defend  himself  from  the  charge  of  appropriat- 
ing rents  due  to  the  Papal  See  that  he  wrote  the 
memorable  letter  to  Angelo  Acciaiuoli  at  Avignon, 
the  original  of  which  is  still  preserved  in  the  Lauren- 
tian  Library. 

In  this  eloquent  treatise,  after  clearing  himself  in 
the  eyes  of  the  Pope,  he  narrates  his  past  history,  and 
enumerates  the  services  he  had  rendered  to  Robert 
of  Naples,  to  Louis  and  Joanna,  to  the  Church  and 
people  of  Italy.  There  is  still  the  same  pride  of 
character,  the  same  contempt  of  base  motives,  of 
conscious  sense  of  superiority  to  the  men  around  him, 
the  same  old  love  of  magnificence  in  the  manner  in 
which  he  heaps  up  the  long  roll  of  his  exploits  and 
services  to  cast  them  in  the  face  of  his  accusers.  But 
with  it  all  there  comes  a  touch  of  sadness,  a  convic- 
tion of  the  vanity  of  earthly  greatness,  as  if  he  said 
to  himself  he  had  done  all  this,  and  had  it  been  worth 
while  ?  Certainly,  in  no  other  cause  would  he  have 
risked  so  much  and  laboured  so  unceasingly — no, 
not  for  all  the  lands  in  Naples.  And  now  that  the 
greater  part  of  his  course  is  run,  and  the  end  draws 
every  day  nearer,  he  can  say  with  truth  in  the  words 
of  the  Apostle,  "  I  have  fought  a  good  fight."  All 

222 


THE   CERTOSA   OF   FLORENCE 

that  he  asks  is  justice,  that  justice  which  is  not  denied 
to  heretics  or  Jews,  and  remarks  in  conclusion  that 
were  he  as  rich  in  substance  as  he  is  in  enemies,  the 
rents  due  to  the  Papal  See  by  the  Queen  would  soon 
be  paid,  Sicily  subdued,  and  all  the  foes  of  the  realm 
'  conquered.  "  But  misery  alone  is  without  envy, 
and  because  we  know  not  what  it  is  we  seek,  all  is 
for  the  best.  Farewell." 

Already  in  this  letter,  written  from  Melfi  on  the 
feast  of  St.  Stephen,  1364,  there  was  a  foreboding  of 
the  coming  end.  A  fever  had  then  attacked  him, 
which,  however,  passed  off  in  a  short  time,  but  he 
only  lived  till  the  following  November,  when  a  few 
days'  illness  ended  his  career  at  the  early  age  of  fifty- 
five. 

The  suddenness  of  his  death  filled  Naples  with 
consternation  at  the  moment.  The  prop  of  the  king- 
dom was  gone,  the  man  who  had  saved  the  throne  and 
restored  peace  to  the  Sicilies,  and  there  was  no  one  to 
fill  up  the  gap  which  he  had  left. 

In  a  short  note  Angelo  Acciaiuoli,  his  son  and 
successor  in  all  his  dignities,  communicated  the  sad 
news  to  the  prior  of  the  Certosa,  and  the  prayers  of 
the  whole  Carthusian  Order  were  asked  for  the  soul 
of  their  illustrious  benefactor.  His  own  city  of 
Florence  was  the  first  to  do  him  honour,  and  paid 

magnificent  homage  to  the  memory  of  "  this  our  most 

223 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

dear  citizen."  Afterwards,  when  his  son  Angelo  was 
disgraced  and  imprisoned  by  the  ungrateful  Joanna, 
the  Signory  of  Florence  interfered  on  his  behalf,  and 
sent  the  Queen  an  indignant  remonstrance,  reproach- 
ing her  for  so  grievously  forgetting  the  services  of 
the  great  man  who  had  stood  by  her  when  all  others 
forsook  her,  and  had  more  than  once  shown  how  gladly 
he  would  have  died  in  her  cause.  Matteo  Palmieri, 
a  scholar  of  the  age  of  the  Medici,  wrote  a  history  of 
the  Grand  Seneschal,  and  Andrea  Castagno  intro- 
duced his  portrait  among  the  life-sized  figures  of 
celebrated  Italians  which  he  painted  for  the  Villa 
Pandolfini  at  Legnaia. 

But  it  was  still  with  the  Certosa,  as  Niccolo  had 
himself  wished,  that  his  memory  was  chiefly  asso- 
ciated. There,  according  to  the  directions  given 
in  his  will,  his  body,  embalmed  and  brought  from 
Naples,  was  laid  to  rest  in  the  crypt  by  the  side  of  his 
beloved  Lorenzo.  The  best  sculptors  of  the  day, 
Orgagna's  pupils,  were  employed  to  raise  the  Area 
above  his  remains  and  carve  his  sleeping  effigy  as 
nearly  as  possible  approaching  to  what  he  had  been  in 
life.  There  we  see  the  Grand  Seneschal,  in  full 
armour,  reclining  under  a  Gothic  canopy  of  marble 
supported  by  spiral  columns.  The  head  rests  on  the 
embroidered  pillow,  and  the  hands  are  folded  with 

the  quiet  consciousness  that  their  work  is  done.     The 

224 


I 
THE   CERTOSA   OF   FLORENCE 

face  is  singularly  noble,  the  serene  brow,  which  had 
met  so  many  perils  in  life  unmoved,  seems  to  have 
won  a  new  majesty  in  the  repose  of  death.  Below, 
the  lion  rampant  of  the  Acciaiuoli  holds  between  his 
paws  the  Angevin  fleur-de-lys,  which  Niccol6  was 
privileged  to  wear,  and  a  long  inscription  records  his 
titles  and  great  deeds,  while  on  either  side  we  read 
Zanobi's  motto,  "  Contemsit  omnia  ille  qui  mortem 
prius,"  and  that  other  saying  with  which  the  Grand 
Seneschal  was  wont  to  console  himself  in  dark  days, 
"  Nescimus  quia  petamus,  omnia  pro  meliori." 

On  the  floor  of  the  same  chapel  are  three  monu- 
mental slabs,  which,  although  different  in  form,  are 
almost  equal  to  the  former  in  beauty  ;  they  are  those 
of  Acciaiuolo,  his  father,  of  his  son  Lorenzo,  and  of 
Lapa,  his  sister,  the  only  woman  to  whom,  by  special 
favour,  the  right  of  burial  in  Niccolo's  sepulchre  was 
granted.  All  three  are  remarkable  for  the  rich  cos- 
tumes and  embroidery  of  the  recumbent  figures,  in 
all  three  we  see  the  same  slender  spiral  columns 
and  pointed  arches.  The  effigy  of  Lorenzo  is 
especially  beautiful.  The  young  knight  sleeps  in  his 
coat  of  mail  with  his  sword  at  his  side,  and  his  grace- 
ful head  bent  a  little  forward  over  his  clasped  hands. 
His  flowing  locks  fall  on  his  shoulders,  and  the  intricate 
tracery  of  the  armour  is  a  marvel  of  delicate  workman- 
ship, as  if  the  sculptor  had  lavished  all  the  wealth  of 

225  p 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

his  art,  by  Niccoli's  command,  on  this  last  memorial  of 
the  son  he  had  loved  so  well.  And  as  we  stand  by  these 
tombs,  where  father  and  son  rest  in  their  long  slumber, 
we  feel  that  Niccol6's  words  have  come  true,  and  that 
after  all  this  Certosa  is  his  most  lasting  monument. 
Since  his  time  whole  dynasties  have  risen  and  fallen 
in  the  Sicilies,  change  has  succeeded  change,  and  king- 
doms have  been  swept  away,  till  not  a  trace  of  his 
work  remains  to  bring  back  his  name  to  men's  lips. 
But  at  the  end  of  these  five  hundred  years  every 
traveller  who,  walking  through  Val  d'Ema,  sees  the 
long  pile  of  buildings  lifting  their  battlements 
against  the  sky,  and  asks  who  founded  the  Certosa, 
receives  for  answer — "  Niccolo  Acciaiuoli,  the  Grand 
Seneschal." 

We  see  it  now  in  the  days  of  its  decay,  but  for 
many  hundred  years  after  Niccolo's  death  the  Certosa 
was  one  of  the  most  celebrated  monastic  foundations 
in  Italy.  Like  other  Tuscan  convents,  it  became  the 
home  of  art,  a  sphere  where  the  painters  of  different 
schools  and  ages  were  invited  to  diplay  their  powers. 

In  that  same  chapel  of  the  Acciaiuoli,  not  many 
years  after  the  great  Seneschal's  death,  a  young 
Dominican  friar  from  the  convent  of  Fiesole  painted 
his  first  works,  and  introduced  some  angels  playing 
musical  instruments,  whose  exceeding  beauty  at- 
tracted universal  attention,  and  were  before  long  to 

226 


THE    CERTOSA   OF    FLORENCE 

earn  for  him  the  name  of  the  "  Angelic  painter." 
These  have  disappeared,  and  a  few  pictures  by  Giot- 
teschi  artists  are  all  that  remain  of  fourteenth 
century  art,  but  the  Chapter-house  contains  a  beauti- 
ful fresco  of  the  Crucifixion  by  Mariotto  Albertinelli. 
Here,  then,  he  came,  the  gay  pleasure-loving  artist, 
whose  restless  nature  was  always  craving  after  new 
excitement  and  who  soon  afterwards  gave  up  painting 
to  keep  a  tavern,  because  he  preferred  receiving 
praises  for  his  good  wine  to  hearing  harsh  censures 
on  his  pictures.  At  the  time  when  he  painted  this 
work  he  was  in  a  graver  mood  than  usual,  for  he  had 
come  fresh  from  parting  with  Baccio  della  Porta,  the 
friend  who  in  spite  of  his  different  tastes  was  more 
than  a  brother  to  him,  and  who  had  renounced  the 
world  in  despair  at  the  death  of  Savonarola.  This 
may  account  for  the  inscription  which  Albertinelli 
left  on  his  fresco  at  the  Certosa,  and  which  has  more 
of  seriousness  than  we  might  have  expected  from  him. 
It  is  as  follows  : — "  Mariotti  Florentini  opus,  pro  quo, 
patres,  deus  orandus  est,  A.D.  MCCCCCVI.  Mens.  Sept." 
It  was  his  best  time,  for  he  had  just  painted  his  well- 
known  "  Visitation  "  and  completed  the  "  Last  Judg- 
ment "  in  the  cloisters  of  S.  Maria  Nuova,  which  Baccio 
had  left  undone,  and  in  this  fresco  of  the  Certosa  the 
kneeling  Magdalen  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross,  and  Angels 

receiving  the  blood  which  drops  from  the  wounds  of 

227 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Christ,  have  a  Peruginesque  grace,  rare  in  his  works. 
Albertinelli's  residence  at  the  Convent  seems  to  have 
been  the  cause  of  considerable  annoyance  to  the 
monks.  He  had  brought  with  him  a  band  of  noisy 
scholars,  who  played  tricks  on  the  Carthusians,  and, 
dissatisfied  with  the  fare  provided  for  them,  stole  the 
monks'  suppers  and  created  general  confusion,  until 
the  brothers,  to  be  rid  of  their  tormentors,  agreed  to 
double  their  rations,  if  only  they  would  finish  the  work 
as  speedily  as  possible,  which,  accordingly,  Vasari 
says,  was  "  effected  with  much  merriment  and  many 
a  joyous  laugh." 

Another  artist,  whose  gentle  nature  was  more  con- 
genial to  the  place,  Jacopo  di  Pontormo,  the  best  of 
Andrea  del  Sarto's  pupils,  spent  many  months  at  the 
Certosa,  where  he  adorned  the  Great  Cloister  with 
a  whole  series  of  scenes  from  the  life  of  Christ. 
Poor  Pontormo  !  it  was  his  precocious  genius  that 
made  Michael  Angelo  say,  "  If  this  boy  lives  to  grow 
up,  he  will  surpass  us  all."  But,  alas  !  for  youthful 
promise,  his  after-career  failed  utterly  to  fulfil  this 
prophecy.  Not  content  with  the  portraits  which  he 
could  paint  in  so  masterly  a  manner,  he  was  seized 
with  an  unlucky  wish  to  emulate  the  Sistina,  and  threw 
away  years  of  his  life  in  an  attempt  to  cover  the  in- 
terior of  St.  Lorenzo  with  gigantic  frescoes,  destined 

to  be  the  wonder  of  the  world.    The  results  proved 

228 


THE   CERTOSA   OF   FLORENCE 

miserably  inadequate  to  the  grandeur  of  the  design, 
and  before  the  work  was  completed  the  artist  died, 
worn  out  by  his  exertions  and  heart-broken  at  the 
failure  of  his  attempts.  All  through  his  life  he  suffered 
from  this  ambition  to  imitate  the  work  of  greater  men ; 
and  Vasari  says  that  the  frescoes  he  painted  at  the 
Certosa  were  spoilt  by  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  follow 
the  manner  of  Albert  Diirer.  Of  this  it  is  impossible 
to  judge,  for  only  the  merest  fragment  of  these  works 
are  now  left.  A  graceful  head  or  two,  a  bit  of  Andrea- 
like  colouring  here  and  there  are  all  that  remain  to 
recall  the  memory  of  a  painter  worthy  of  a  better  fate. 
Time  has  proved  less  destructive  to  the  sculptor's 
art,  and  besides  the  tombs  of  the  Acciaiuoli,  many 
specimens  of  Renaissance  work  are  still  to  be  seen  at 
the  Certosa.  Luca  della  Robbia  has  left  there  some 
of  his  Saints  and  Angels  in  delicate  blue  and  white, 
and  in  the  refectory  is  a  pulpit  carved  with  the  cross 
and  crown  of  thorns  by  that  sweetest  of  all  Floren- 
tine sculptors,  Mino  da  Fiesole.  Donatello  is  said 
to  have  fashioned  the  tomb  of  Cardinal  Angelo 
Acciaiuoli,  who  died  in  1409.  This  monument  was  en- 
riched with  a  garland  of  fruit  and  flowers  by  a  later 
master,  Giuliano  di  San  Gallo,  the  favourite  architect 
of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici.  In  the  Chapter-house,  under 
Mariotto's  fresco,  is  another  tomb,  which  must  not 
be  passed  over,  the  work  of  Francesco  di  San  Gallo, 

229 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Giuliano's  son.  It  is  that  of  Leonardo  Buonafede, 
a  name  which  frequently  occurs  in  old  Florentine 
records,  and  is  worthy  of  all  remembrance.  Origin- 
ally a  monk  of  the  Certosa,  this  excellent  man  was, 
during  twenty-seven  years,  Spedalingo  of  the  great 
Florentine  hospital,  S.  Maria  Nuova,  and  made  him- 
self beloved  by  his  good  works  and  the  many  charit- 
able institutions  which  he  founded.  At  the  end  of 
that  time  he  became  Bishop  of  Cortona,  and  when,  in 
1545,  he  died  at  a  great  age,  wished  to  be  buried  in 
his  old  convent.  His  portrait,  with  a  view  of  the 
Certosa  in  the  background,  is  introduced  in  an  altar- 
piece  by  Ridolfo  Ghirlandajo,  now  in  the  Academy. 
It  is  curious  to  find  that  this  saintly  prelate,  while 
Spedalingo  of  S.  Maria  Nuova,  was  called  upon  to 
baptize  the  infant  daughter  of  Lorenzo  di  Piero  de' 
Medici,  the  famous  Catherine,  afterwards  Queen  of 
France. 

Francesco  di  San  Gallo  was  an  inferior  artist  to 
his  father,  and  has  left  little  work  of  importance 
behind  him  ;  but  in  the  good  Bishop's  tomb,  it  must 
be  owned,  he  has  succeeded  in  producing  a  master- 
piece. There  is  no  aiming  at  effect,  no  especial  rich- 
ness of  decoration,  or  beauty  of  workmanship  ;  but 
the  sculptor  has  caught  the  expression  which  lingers 
on  the  faces  of  the  dead,  and  rendered  it  with  touch- 
ing simplicity.  The  old  man  lies  on  his  death-bed  : 

230 


THE    CERTOSA   OF    FLORENCE 

he  has  breathed  his  parting  sigh,  and  his  eyes  have 
closed  in  their  last  slumber  ;  but  a  happy  smile  still 
plays  on  his  features,  the  brightness  of  the  long  life 
spent  in  doing  good  shining  on  his  countenance.  The 
mere  sight  of  his  face  is  enough  to  take  away  all  terror 
from  the  thought  of  death.  It  is  all  so  easy  and 
natural,  just  as  if  he  had  laid  down  to  rest,  a  little 
tired  with  his  long  journey,  and  in  that  sleep  had 
found  all  his  soul  desired. 

"  He  was  ninety-five  years  old  when  he  died,"  said 
the  monk  who  stood  with  me  by  the  tomb,  and  then 
turned  away,  as  if  this  explained  everything. 

Of  about  the  same  date  as  Buonafede's  tomb  is 
the  stained  glass  in  one  of  the  cloisters  representing 
scenes  from  the  life  of  St.  Bruno,  and  ascribed  to 
Giovanni  da  Udine,  the  friend  of  Raphael,  who  spent 
some  years  at  Florence,  and  designed  the  windows  of 
the  Laurentian  Library,  before  returning  to  die  at 
Rome  and  be  laid  by  the  side  of  Raphael,  "never 
again  to  be  divided  from  him  whom  living  he  had 
refused  to  leave"  (Vasari).  St.  Bruno's  history 
appears  again  in  a  number  of  frescoes  executed  by 
Bernardino  Poccetti,  that  prolific  artist  whose  works 
in  Florentine  churches  and  convents  have  rendered 
him,  in  the  eyes  of  modern  travellers,  a  type  of  the 
decadence  of  Italian  painting. 

More  interesting  are  the  series   of  busts  by  Gio- 

231 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

vanni  della  Robbia,  who,  in  1522,  was  commissioned 
by  the  Carthusians  to  adorn  their  cloisters  with  medal- 
lions representing  Prophets,  Evangelists,  Saints,  and 
Martyrs.  These  curious  heads,  executed  in  classical 
style  and  in  a  great  variety  of  colours,  were  removed 
in  the  last  century  to  the  court  of  the  Accademia,  and 
have  only  recently  been  restored  to  their  original 
place  in  the  loggia  of  the  large  cloister.  Twenty  of 
the  series  seem  to  be  by  Giovanni's  own  hand,  and  are 
full  of  vigour  and  character.  The  other  forty-seven 
are  evidently  the  work  of  assistants  and  followers,  but 
are  not  without  a  certain  interest.  Moses  and 
David  appear  in  turbans  and  Oriental  robes,  Judas 
Maccabeus  as  a  knight  in  armour,  St.  James  wears  the 
pilgrim's  cockle-shell,  and  S.  Mary  Magdalen  is  con- 
spicuous by  her  noble  Greek  profile.  The  four 
Evangelists — evidently  executed  by  Giovanni  him- 
self— occupy  the  angles  of  the  cloister,  and  a  lunette 
in  white  and  blue  terra-cotta,  representing  S.  Lorenzo 
surrounded  by  Angels,  is  to  be  seen  in  the  small 
cloister. 

Thus,  the  Certosa  continued  to  exercise  a  noble 
and  liberal  patronage  of  art  until  the  monastery  was 
seized  and  suppressed  by  the  French,  on  the  invasion 
of  Napoleon.  Many  priceless  treasures  perished  then, 
and  the  collections  which  had  been  formed  with  so 

much  love  and  care  were  scattered  by  ruthless  hands. 

232 


THE   CERTOSA   OF    FLORENCE 

One  victim  of  persecution  and  outrage,  the  aged 
pontiff,  Pius  VI,  found  a  shelter  within  her  hospitable 
walls,  and  the  rooms  where  he  resided,  until  he  was 
dragged  to  die  in  France,  are  still  shown. 

In  1814  the  convent  was  restored  to  the  monks  ; 
and  when  later,  Acts  were  passed  for  the  dissolu- 
tion of  monasteries,  the  Certosa  was  one  of  the  few 
foundations  which  were  spared  for  the  sake  of  their 
great  memories.  We  can  pass  under  the  gateway 
now,  through  which  of  old  no  monk  might  issue  and  no 
woman  enter,  without  the  Archbishop's  permission  ; 
and,  climbing  up  the  steep  hillside,  cross  the  threshold 
above  which  Niccolo's  lion  still  lifts  its  fleur-de-lys. 
A  strange  loneliness  fills  the  spacious  courts,  and 
the  wind  blows  cold  up  the  empty  corridors.  Here 
and  there  we  meet  a  white-robed  brother,  lighting 
the  lamps  in  the  church,  pacing  up  and  down  the 
cloisters,  or  taking  an  evening  walk  among  the  dark 
shadows  of  the  cypress  avenues.  From  all  we  receive 
the  same  courteous  welcome.  They  lead  us  through 
their  halls  and  cloisters,  and  show  us  the  beauties  of 
their  ancient  home — the  great  central  church,  with 
its  rich  mosaic  pavement  and  cluster  of  surrounding 
chapels,  the  crypt  where  the  ashes  of  their  founder 
rest,  the  Spezeria,  fragrant  with  the  scent  of  the 
perfumes  they  manufacture.  Their  dress,  their  rule 
are  still  the  same ;  they  are  almost  the  only  things  that 

233 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

have  not  changed  in  these  five  hundred  years.  With- 
out the  world  goes  on,  the  fashion  of  its  order  changes, 
but  in  the  life  of  these  monks  the  lapse  of  ages  has 
worked  little  alteration.  Every  day  brings  back  the 
same  round  of  services,  every  night  they  rise  at  stated 
hours  from  their  beds  of  sackcloth  to  repeat  the  same 
nocturnal  offices.  One  generation  is  laid  in  the  Campo 
Santo,  and  another  takes  its  place  without  a  break  in 
the  monotony  of  their  existence.  Only  their  ranks 
are  sadly  thinned,  and  the  few  who  remain  appear 
conscious  that  their  days  are  numbered.  There  is 
a  melancholy  pride  in  their  voices  as  they  guide  the 
stranger  through  the  deserted  courts,  and  pause  to 
compare  their  past  greatness  with  their  present 
condition. 

"  Once  we  were  a  hundred  and  more,  now  we  are 
only  twenty.  Chi  sa?  Who  knows  how  long  we 
shall  be  suffered  to  remain  here  at  all  ?  Who  can 
tell  how  soon  another  decree  may  not  drive  us  out  to 
wander  homeless  exiles  over  the  face  of  the  earth,  and 
turn  our  beloved  convent  into  a  barrack  or  factory  ? 
God  knows  !  these  are  evil  days  !  blessed  be  His 
will !  " 

And  so,  meanwhile,  they  linger  on,  isolated  frag- 
ments of  a  system  that  belongs  to  the  past,  but  worthy 
of  our  reverence  as  the  last  relics  of  an  age  which  could 
produce  foundations  as  vast  and  splendid  as  this  Cer- 
tosa  and  men  as  noble  as  Niccol6  Acciaiuoli. 

234 


A   TOMB   AT    RAVENNA 

"  Morte  bella  parea  nel  suo  bel  viso."— PETRARCH. 

RAVENNA  belongs — more  than  any  other  Italian 
city — to  the  early  ages,  when  the  Christian  Church 
was  in  her  first  vigour  and  the  Roman  Empire  was 
tottering  to  its  fall.  Her  great  churches  and  noble 
tombs  had  their  origin  in  that  troubled  period  when 
the  old  order  was  slowly  giving  place  to  the  new, 
and  the  human  race  was  entering  on  a  fresh  phase 
in  its  career.  The  mosaic  pictures  of  Galla  Placidia's 
shrine,  the  portraits  of  Justinian  and  Theodora  in  the 
apse  of  San  Vitale,  the  long  procession  of  virgins  and 
martyrs  in  the  nave  of  S.  Apollinare,  and  the  sculp- 
tures of  the  ancient  sarcophagi  that  meet  us  at  every 
turn,  all  tell  the  same  story.  The  enthusiasm  of 
apostolic  days  breathes  in  the  types  and  symbols  that 
we  see  carved  in  stone  or  set  forth  in  the  jewelled 
tints  of  mosaic — the  Cross  of  salvation  and  peacock  of 
the  resurrection,  the  Good  Shepherd  leading  his  flock  to 
rest  in  the  green  pastures,  the  hart  no  longer  panting 
after,  but  at  length  tasting,  the  water-brooks.  These 
things  make  Ravenna  unique  among  the  cities  of  Italy. 

235 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

But  although  her  great  days  ended  with  the  fall 
of  the  Exarchs  and  the  Lombard  conquest,  Ravenna 
once  more  enjoyed  a  period  of  peace  and  prosperity 
under  the  rule  of  the  House  of  Polenta  in  the  thir- 
teenth and  fourteeth  centuries,  and  the  once  imperial 
city  still  retains  many  memorials  of  mediaeval  times. 
The  palace  where  Guido  da  Polenta  received  Dante 
during  his  exile  has  vanished,  but  the  church  of  S. 
Francesco,  which  was  the  favourite  sanctuary  and 
burial-place  of  his  family,  is  still  standing.  Here 
Dante  himself  was  laid  to  rest,  by  his  last  prayer, 
clad  in  the  habit  of  the  Franciscan  Order ;  and  here, 
close  under  the  walls  of  this  ancient  Christian  basilica, 
stands  the  monument  raised  to  his  memory  by  the 
Venetian  governor  Bembo,  and  the  "  little  cupola, 
more  neat  than  solemn,"  which  now  protects  his 
tomb.  Beyond  the  gates  of  the  city  is  the  Pineta 
where  the  poet  loved  to  wander,  that  vast  forest,  so 
full  of  memories,  which  still  stretches  its  vivid  green 
between  the  blue  of  sky  and  sea.  We  can  see  the 
spectre-huntsman  of  Boccaccio's  time,  that  "  Nastagio 
degli  Onesti,"  whose  tragic  tale  was  painted  by 
Botticelli,  and  sung  by  Dryden  and  Byron  in  turn, 
driving  his  hell-hounds  through  the  long  avenues. 
We  think  of  the  hapless  Francesca  riding  along  these 
grassy  glades  in  the  May  morning,  by  her  "  bel 
Paolo's  "  side,  on  the  way  to  Rimini.  And  we  repeat 
the  familiar  lines  in  which  Dante  likens  the  murmurs 

236 


A  TOMB   AT   RAVENNA 

of  "  the  divine  forest "  in  Paradise  to  the  rustling  of 
the  wind  and  the  joyous  singing  of  the  birds  in  the 
pine-trees  on  the  shore  of  Classis. 

But  the  tomb  which  forms  the  subject  of  our  illus- 
tration belongs  to  a  later  age.  The  old  Franciscan 
church,  round  which  the  proudest  memories  of  medi- 
aeval Ravenna  cluster,  once  held  another  sepulchral 
monument,  which  has  lately  been  removed  to  the  neigh- 
bouring museum  known  as  the  Accademia  di  belle  Arti. 
It  is  the  effigy  of  Guidarello  Guidarelli,  a  soldier  of 
renown  in  his  day,  and  was  the  work  of  a  great  sculptor, 
Tullio  Lombardo.  Of  Guidarello  himself  we  know 
little,  but  both  his  valiant  deeds  and  the  mysterious 
and  tragic  fate  which  ended  his  career  in  the  flower  of 
his  manhood  are  typical  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived, 
while  the  statue  which  the  Venetian  master  carved  in 
his  honour  is  of  surpassing  beauty. 

The  family  from  which  our  hero  sprang  originally 
came  from  Florence,  and  settled  in  Ravenna  early  in 
the  fifteenth  century.  Here  they  soon  acquired 
wealth  and  renown.  Their  palace  stood  near  the 
Duomo,  in  the  old  street  now  called  the  Via  Guida- 
rello, and  they  owned  considerable  property  in  land 
and  houses  in  the  neighbourhood.  Francesco  Guida- 
relli held  several  important  posts  under  Government, 
and  was  sent  on  one  occasion  as  ambassador  to  Venice. 
When,  in  December  1468,  the  Emperor  Frederic  III 
visited  Ravenna,  Francesco's  son,  Guidarello,  was  one 

237 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

of  eighteen  noble  youths  who  received  the  honour  of 
knighthood  at  the  hands  of  their  imperial  master. 
Soon  after  this  the  young  knight  married  Benedetta 
del  Sale,  a  daughter  of  one  of  the  oldest  and  proudest 
families  of  Ravenna,  which  the  chronicler  Fiandrini 
describes  as  "  il  nobilissimo  casato  del  Sale." 

At  this  time  Ravenna  had  already  lost  her 
independence.  The  last  of  her  Polenta  rulers  had 
been  deprived  of  his  principality  by  the  Signory  of 
Venice,  and  sent  to  die  in  exile  in  the  isle  of  Candia. 
The  twin  columns  still  standing  in  the  Forum  remind 
us  that  during  seventy  years  Ravenna  was  numbered 
among  the  subject-lands  of  Venice,  although  the 
winged  lion  which  formerly  crowned  one  of  these 
pillars  has  been  replaced  by  a  statue  of  San  Vitale. 
Guidarello,  however,  proved  himself  a  loyal  servant 
of  the  Republic,  and  the  fidelity  which  he  showed 
to  the  Venetian  Podesta  of  Ravenna  was  probably 
the  cause  of  his  early  death.  His  first  laurels  were 
earned  in  the  service  of  the  Republic,  and  he  soon 
rose  to  considerable  renown  as  a  wise  and  valiant 
captain.  Contemporary  writers  describe  him  as  being 
not  only  a  brave  soldier,  but  a  cultivated  scholar, 
learned  in  the  Greek  and  Latin  tongues,  and  the 
poets  who  lamented  his  premature  end  spoke  of 
him  as  dear  alike  to  Minerva  and  Bellona — a  Mars 
in  war  and  a  Cato  in  peace. 

238 


A  TOMB   AT   RAVENNA 

Unfortunately  we  know  little  of  Guidarello's 
early  life,  and  the  few  details  of  his  exploits  which 
have  been  preserved  all  relate  to  his  last  years. 
In  April  1498  he  sold  land  to  the  value  of  thirty-five 
florins,  and  raised  a  troop  of  horse,  at  the  head 
of  which  he  set  out  for  Tuscany  to  join  the 
Venetian  army  under  Duke  Guidobaldo  of  Urbino. 
Marino  Sanudo,  whose  Diaries  afford  us  so  much 
valuable  information  concerning  this  period,  mentions 
Guidarello  repeatedly  in  his  chronicle  of  passing 
events.  From  him  we  learn  that  this  knight  of 
Ravenna  was  among  the  chief  captains  of  the 
forces  in  Val  d'Arno  who  met  in  the  camp  during 
the  last  week  of  September  to  decide  on  the 
measures  necessary  for  reducing  the  fortress  of 
Marati,  then  held  by  the  Florentines.  On  this 
occasion  Duke  Guidobaldo  himself  was  present, 
as  well  as  Piero  and  Giuliano  dei  Medici,  the 
sons  of  Lorenzo,  who  had  recently  been  expelled 
from  Florence  by  the  partisans  of  Savonarola,  and 
were  now  fighting  in  the  enemy's  ranks  against  their 
native  city.  "  And  here,  too,"  writes  Sanudo,  "  were 
present  Signor  Bartolommeo  d'Alviano,  Paolo  Man- 
fron,  my  lord  Annibale  Bentivoglio  of  Bologna, 
and  one  Guidarello  of  Ravenna."  l 

On     January     20,      1499,     tne     same    chronicler 
1  Marino  Sanudo  Diarii,  ii.  8. 

239 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE   RENAISSANCE 

mentions  the  arrival  in  camp  of  a  Florentine  refugee, 
who  was  a  friend  of  Guidarello  and  who  brought 
news  of  importance  concerning  the  state  of  parties 
in  Florence  and  the  confusion  that  reigned  in  the 
city.  Soon  after  this  the  Venetians  abandoned  the 
campaign,  disgusted  with  the  lack  of  support  which 
they  received  from  their  allies,  Lodovico  Sforza  and 
the  Emperor  Maximilian,  and  turned  their  arms 
against  the  treacherous  Duke  of  Milan  and  his 
niece,  Caterina  Sforza,  "  that  tiger,"  as  Sanudo 
calls  this  heroic  lady.  The  next  we  hear  of  Guida- 
rello is  in  the  following  August,  when  the  French 
invaders  were  already  at  the  gates  of  Milan,  and 
the  armies  of  Caesar  Borgia  were  fast  closing  round 
the  Rocca  held  by  the  brave  Madonna  of  Forli. 
Then,  we  read  in  Sanudo's  records,  there  came  one 
day  to  Venice  "  Domine  Guidarello  da  Ravenna, 
who  was  in  the  people's  pay/'  but  who  openly 
expressed  his  dislike  of  foreign  service,  and  wished 
the  Signory  would  undertake  the  expedition  which 
the  Pope's  son  was  leading  against  the  cities  of 
Imola  and  Forll. 

During  Caesar  Borgia's  second  invasion  of  Romagna 
in  the  autumn  of  1500,  Guidarello  again  proved 
his  loyalty  to  the  Doge  and  Signory  by  supplying 
Antonio  Soranzo,  the  Venetian  Governor  of  Ravenna, 

1  Marino  Sanudo  Diarii^  ii.  1082. 
240 


A   TOMB   AT   RAVENNA 

with  constant  information  regarding  the  progress  of 
the  conqueror.  In  October  he  wrote  from  the 
camp  before  Faenza,  giving  the  Podesta  full  particulars 
of  the  situation.  Duke  Valentino's  triumphant  cam- 
paign had  just  received  an  unexpected  check  before 
the  walls  of  this  little  city,  which  its  young  prince, 
Astorre  Manfredi,  and  his  gallant  subjects  vowed 
to  defend  with  the  last  drop  of  their  blood.  The 
eyes  of  all  Italy  were  upon  the  brave  little  town, 
which  alone  among  the  cities  of  Romagna  dared  to 
offer  a  determined  resistance  to  the  arms  of  the 
dreaded  Borgia. 

"  I  rejoice,"  wrote  Isabella  d'Este  to  her  husband, 
the  Marquis  of  Mantua,  "  I  rejoice  to  hear  that  the 
citizens  of  Faenza  are  so  loyal  and  constant  in  their 
lord's  cause,  and  feel  that  they  have  saved  the  honour 
of  Italy.  May  God  give  them  grace  to  persevere ! 
Not  that  I  wish  Duke  Valentino  any  ill,  but  because 
neither  the  poor  Signor  nor  his  faithful  people  deserve 
so  hard  a  fate." 

In  his  despatches  to  Ravenna,  Guidarello  informed 
Soranzo  of  the  desperate  efforts  which  Duke  Valentino 
was  making  to  obtain  possession  of  Faenza  by  intrigue 
or  force  of  arms,  and  of  the  steadfast  opposition  which 
he  had  encountered.  On  November  7  he  wrote  again 
from  Forli,  telling  him  of  the  arrival  of  Caesar  and  his 

chief  captains,  the  three  Orsini   brothers,  Vitellozzo 

241  Q 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Vitelli,  Annibale  Bentivoglio,  and  Paolo  Baglioni.  At 
the  same  time  he  gave  a  full  and  accurate  description 
of  the  troops  and  ammunition  at  Borgia's  disposal, 
adding  the  following  significant  note  :  "  This  army  is 
very  mediocre  in  quality  and  especially  poor  in  foot- 
soldiers,  but  Fortune  does  everything,  lays  the  siege, 
places  the  ladders  against  the  walls,  gives  the  battle, 
and  finally  carries  cities."  *  Such  was  the  unconscious 
homage  which  the  warrior  of  Ravenna  paid  to  Borgia's 
imposing  personality  and  extraordinary  force  of  will. 
"  The  Pope's  son,"  wrote  a  Ferrarese  envoy  from 
Rome,  "  has  a  great  soul  and  is  bent  on  attaining  fame 
and  power,  but  cares  more  to  conquer  cities  than  to 
govern  and  preserve  them."  For  a  while,  however, 
even  Caesar's  boundless  ambition  and  untiring  energy 
were  foiled  by  the  courage  and  loyalty  of  Astorre's 
subjects.  Guidarello  describes  the  gallant  sorties  made 
by  the  little  garrison,  and  tells  how,  one  winter 
morning,  he  himself  rode  up  to  the  city  gates  with 
twenty  crossbowmen.  No  one  came  out  to  meet  him, 
but  the  walls  bristled  with  men  and  artillery,  which 
discharged  their  shells  repeatedly  and  compelled  him 
to  retire.  Still  Duke  Valentino,  contrary  to  the 
opinion  of  his  captains,  was  in  favour  of  an  immediate 
assault,  and  with  this  intention  held  a  grand  review  of 
his  forces,  including  a  large  body  of  newly  levied 

1  Marino  Sanudo  Diarii,  iii.  1050. 
242 


A   TOMB   AT   RAVENNA 

infantry.  But  the  increasing  severity  of  the  winter 
forced  him  to  abandon  the  siege,  and  on  November  23 
he  broke  up  his  camp  and  left  For  11  abruptly.  "  The 
Duke's  camp  has  been  suddenly  raised,"  joyfully  wrote 
Astorre  Manfredi  to  the  Signory  of  Venice,  "owing 
to  the  bad  weather,  and  Faenza  is  saved  as  it  were  by 
a  divine  miracle." 

The  besieging  army  was  disbanded  and  ordered  into 
winter  quarters.  Caesar  himself  went  to  Cesena,  Paolo 
Orsini  to  Imola,  and  the  remaining  leaders  and  men- 
at-arms  were  sent  to  Rimini,  Pesaro,  and  Fano  in 
order  to  relieve  Forli.  "  Guidarello  Guidarelli," 
writes  the  Podesta  of  Ravenna,  "  has  been  appointed 
chief  of  the  lodgings,  and  superintended  the  disposal 
of  the  forces  in  their  separate  quarters."  2  That  he 
made  some  attempt  to  maintain  order  and  protect  the 
defenceless  citizens  from  the  depredations  of  the 
soldiery  is  evident  from  the  decree  which  he  issued 
at  Forli,  in  which  it  is  expressly  stated  that  the 
garrison  is  only  to  be  provided  with  fuel  and  lodging 
by  the  inhabitants.  But  this  was  no  easy  task,  for 
Borgia's  lawless  troops  were  the  terror  of  the  whole 
district.  They  seized  cattle  and  corn,  plundered 
houses,  and  put  to  the  sword  owners  who  dared  to 
resist  their  greed  and  insolence.  Again  and  again  in 
Sanudo's  pages  we  find  reports  of  their  violence  and 

1  Marino  Sanudo  Diarii,  iii.  1125.  2  Ibid.,  iii.  1241. 

243 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

rapacity,  and  of  the  Duke's  refusal  to  hear  the  prayers 
of  the  unhappy  peasants  who  came  to  him  for  redress. 
From  Pesaro,  from  Rimini  and  Forli,  from  all  parts  of 
the  distracted  land  we  hear  the  same  cry.  "  The 
Duke's  soldiers  have  no  money,  and  do  all  manner 
of  damage  wherever  they  lodge.  These  men  are  given 
over  to  the  devil  and  to  his  work,  and  the  Duke  listens 
to  no  complaint  and  does  no  justice." l  Meanwhile 
Caesar  himself  was  spending  his  brief  interval  of  leisure 
in  feasting  and  dancing,  and  in  his  favourite  pastime 
of  patrolling  the  streets  at  the  head  of  a  troop  of 
masked  men-at-arms.  In  January  he  was  still  at 
Cesena,  "  giving  himself  to  pleasure,  and  taking  an 
active  part  in  hunting  expeditions  and  masquerades." 
In  February  he  rose  up  suddenly  like  a  lion  from 
his  lair  and  stormed  the  Rocca  of  Ressi,  and  took 
and  sacked  the  prosperous  little  town  of  Solarolo 
near  Faenza.  Early  in  March  he  was  back  at  Imola. 
There  he  summoned  his  chief  captains  together  and 
held  a  council  of  war  to  decide  the  fate  of  Faenza. 
There  were  two  parties  in  the  camp,  Soranzo  heard 
from  his  trusted  knight  at  Imola.  Some  of  the 
leaders  were  in  favour  of  an  immediate  assault,  but 
the  more  prudent  advised  delay  until  the  expected 
French  reinforcements  had  arrived.  "And  on  Sunday, 
March  7,  they  held  a  festti  and  danced  all  night, 

1  Marino  Sanudo  Diarii,  iii.  1064. 
244 


A  TOMB   AT   RAVENNA 

and  the  Duke  danced."  Three  weeks  later  letters 
from  Ravenna  informed  the  Signory  that  Duke 
Valentino  was  still  at  Imola,  "  taking  his  pleasures 
and  enjoying  himself  after  his  wonted  fashion,  in 
the  old  way." l  Now  and  then  darker  rumours 
reach  our  ears.  A  fair  Venetian  lady,  the  wife  of 
the  captain  of  infantry  at  Cervia,  was  suddenly 
carried  off  to  the  Rocca  of  Forli  one  night  by  a 
Spanish  officer  acting  under  the  Duke's  orders.  The 
injured  husband  appealed  to  the  Doge  for  redress, 
and  appeared  in  the  College  "very  melancholy  and 
almost  in  tears "  to  beg  for  help.  Nothing  had 
been  heard  of  his  wife  for  a  fortnight,  and  the  most 
sinister  reports  were  abroad.  Great  was  the  indig- 
nation aroused  on  all  sides,  and  many  the  letters 
that  were  exchanged  on  the  subject  between  Ambassa- 
dors at  Venice  and  Rome.  The  Pope  himself  pro- 
nounced the  act  to  be  "  infamous "  and  pressed  his 
son  for  explanations,  while  he  publicly  maintained 
the  Duke's  innocence.  But  Caesar  kept  silence  and 
the  matter  was  allowed  to  drop.  Only  it  served 
to  increase  the  hatred  of  the  people  throughout 
Romagna  for  their  oppressor.  c<  Cesena,  Forli,  and 
Imola,"  we  learn,  "  bitterly  resent  the  wrong  that 
has  been  done,  and  impatiently  await  the  Duke's 
ruin." 2  The  star  of  the  Borgia,  however,  was  still 
1  Marino  Sanudo  Diarii>  iii.  1616.  2  Ibid.,  iii.  1530. 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

in  the  ascendant.  All  through  these  months  of 
apparent  idleness  Caesar  was  collecting  money  and 
troops,  and  early  in  April  he  once  more  took  the 
field  at  the  head  of  a  large  army  supplied  with 
fresh  guns  and  ammunition.  This  time  the  doom 
of  Faenza  was  sealed.  On  the  last  day  of  April  the 
exhausted  garrison  surrendered,  and  its  brave  leader, 
Astorre  Manfredi,  was  taken  prisoner  to  Rome  and 
strangled  by  Cassar's  orders  in  Castell'  Sant'  Angelo. 
But  we  hear  no  more  of  Guidarello.  He  was 
not  present  at  the  last  siege  of  Faenza,  and  no 
further  letters  from  his  hand  reached  the  Podesta 
of  Ravenna.  A  dark  mystery  overshadows  the  hero's 
fate.  All  we  know  is  that  he  was  murdered  one 
night  at  Imola  by  an  assassin's  hand,  and  fell  a  victim 
to  some  foul  conspiracy.  This  we  learn  from  an 
elegy  composed  by  a  Venetian  poet,  Bernardino  Catti, 
and  published  in  the  following  year.  "  Here,"  sings 
the  bard,  "  lies  the  good  knight  Guidarello,  the 
glory  of  warlike  Mars  and  the  boast  of  learned 
Minerva.  Imola,  with  secret  steel,  took  the  life 
which  Ravenna  gave  to  be  the  pride  of  Italy."  And 
in  another  poem  we  read :  "  Once  Guidarello  was 
the  flower  of  Italy  and  of  the  whole  world ; 
born  and  bred  on  the  ancient  soil  of  Ravenna, 
he  fell  at  Imola,  treacherously  murdered  by  the 

hand  of  a  proud  Roman."     Dr.  Corrado  Ricci,  the 

246 


A   TOMB   AT   RAVENNA 

able  and  learned  director  of  the  Uffizi,  who  has 
devoted  much  time  and  study  to  the  antiquities  of 
Ravenna,  is  of  opinion  that  Paolo  Orsini  was  the 
assassin  by  whose  hand  Guidarello  died.1  But  there 
can  be  little  doubt  that  Duke  Valentino  instigated 
the  crime  if  he  did  not  actually  strike  the  blow. 
Up  to  the  close  of  1500,  the  knight  of  Ravenna, 
it  is  plain,  had  enjoyed  Cassar's  confidence  and  held 
a  high  post  in  his  councils.  But  Guidarello's  secret 
correspondence  with  the  Signory  of  Venice  may  well 
have  excited  his  suspicions,  and  Valentino  was  said 
by  those  who  knew  him  best  never  to  forgive  a  wrong, 
and  never  to  allow  an  enemy  to  live.  His  vengeance 
was  apt  to  be  swift  and  sudden,  and  eighteen  months 
later  the  same  fate  befell  Guidarello's  most  distin- 
guished colleagues,  Paolo  Orsini,  Vitellozzo,  Gravina 
and  Oliverotto  da  Fermo,  who  were  treacherously 
seized  and  put  to  death  by  the  Duke's  orders — an  act 
described  in  a  famous  phrase  of  the  Machiavelli  as 
"  il  bellissimo  inganno  di  Sinigaglia  "  (the  magnificent 
deceit  of  Sinigaglia). 

So  the  good  knight  Guidarello  came  to  his  end, 
and  Ravenna  wept  bitterly  over  "  the  flower  which 
had  been  plucked  before  its  time,"  and  lamented 
her  warrior's  untimely  end.  His  body  was  brought 
home  to  his  native  city,  and  buried  in  the  church 

1  Italia  Artistica  :  Ravenna^  p.  83.     La  Statua  di  Guidarello,  p.  2 1. 

247 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

of  S.  Francesco,  a  sanctuary  for  which  he  cherished 
especial  devotion.  By  his  will,  he  left  a  sum  of 
six  hundred  ducats  for  the  decoration  of  the  chapel 
and  altar  of  Archbishop  Liberius,  whose  ashes  rest 
in  this  ancient  basilica.  But  these  last  wishes  were 
never  obeyed,  and  after  the  death  of  his  widow, 
twenty  years  later,  the  Franciscan  friars  obtained 
the  Pope's  leave  to  divert  to  their  own  uses  the 
money  which  he  had  bequeathed. 

Meanwhile  Guidarello's  remains  were  laid  in  an 
early  Christian  sarcophagus,  and  by  his  wife's  pious 
care  the  tomb  was  enriched  with  his  armorial 
bearings  and  adorned  with  an  effigy  of  the  dead 
knight  in  armour.  Some  Ravennese  writers  have 
described  this  statue  as  the  work  of  a  local  sculptor, 
but  there  seems  no  reason  to  dispute  the  old 
tradition  which  assigns  it  to  the  Venetian,  Tullio 
Lombardi.  Not  only  does  the  marble  bear  a  close 
relation  to  this  gifted  sculptor's  other  works  in 
Padua  and  Venice,  but  the  tradition  is  confirmed  by 
a  contemporary  chronicle — preserved  in  the  library 
of  S.  Apollinare  di  Classe — where  the  writer  ex- 
pressly states  that  this  admirable  statue  was  the 
work  of  Pietro  Lombardi's  son.  The  artists  of 
this  family,  to  whom  we  owe  the  finest  Renaissance 
sculpture  in  Venice,  were  often  employed  in  Ravenna. 

Pietro  himself  executed  the  bas-reliefs  on  the  columns 

248 


A   TOMB    AT    RAVENNA 

in  the  Forum  and  the  delicate  ornament  of  the  pillars 
which  support  the  chapel  of  the  crucifix  in  S. 
Francesco.  His  son  Tullio,  there  can  be  little 
doubt,  was  the  sculptor  chosen  by  Benedetta  to  carve 
the  effigy  of  her  dead  lord.  Unfortunately  his  statue 
was  not  long  allowed  to  remain  in  its  place.  After 
the  death  of  Benedetta  in  1520,  this  tomb,  which 
may  still  be  seen  on  the  left  of  the  door  in  S. 
Francesco,  became  the  property  of  her  kinsman, 
Bartolemmeo  del  Sale,  who  substituted  his  own 
armorial  bearings  for  those  of  Guidarello  on  the 
sarcophagus  and  removed  the  warrior's  effigy  to  the 
chapel  without  the  walls,  known  as  the  Capella 
Braccioforte.  The  name  of  Braccioforte,  however, 
does  not,  as  we  read  in  some  modern  guide-books, 
owe  its  derivation  to  Guidarello's  strong  arm,  but 
to  a  miracle  wrought  in  early  Christian  times, 
according  to  a  legend  recorded  by  Agnellus  in  the 
ninth  century.  Here  Tullio  Lombardi's  statue 
remained  for  the  next  two  hundred  years  with  a 
Latin  epitaph,  commemorating  the  splendour  of  the 
hero's  acts  and  the  glory  of  his  name,  inscribed  on 
the  wall  above.  At  length,  some  thirty  or  forty 
years  ago,  the  statue  was  removed  to  the  Accademia, 
where  it  still  remains,  the  one  supremely  beautiful 
thing  there. 

Throughout    the    greater    part    of   the    fifteenth 

249 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

century  the  Christian  traditions  of  mediaeval  ages 
still  influenced  the  form  of  sepulchral  monuments, 
and  found  expression  in  the  statues  of  angels  watching 
by  the  dead  man's  bier,  and  in  the  bas-reliefs  of  the 
Annunciation  and  the  Resurrection  that  were  carved 
on  altar-tombs.  But  by  the  close  of  the  century  a 
change  of  style  became  evident,  and  the  increasing 
realism  of  the  age  made  itself  felt  in  this  branch  of 
monumental  art.  To  represent  the  dead  as  nearly 
as  possible  as  they  appeared  in  their  last  sleep,  clad 
in  the  robes  or  armour  in  which  they  were  carried  to 
their  burial ,  became  the  sculptor's  aim,  the  object 
upon  which  his  highest  skill  was  lavished.  Then 
Lodovico  Sforza,  in  his  grief  and  remorse  at  his 
wife's  death,  bade  II  Gobbo  carve  the  fair  face  and 
form  of  the  young  duchess  wearing  the  rich  brocades 
and  jewels  in  which  she  had  been  borne  to  her  last 
resting-place.  Then  Amadeo's  skilful  hand  designed 
the  marble  effigy  of  the  dead  girl  Medea,  in  the 
Colleoni  Chapel  at  Bergamo,  with  the  short  locks 
curling  over  her  innocent  brow,  and  the  string  of 
pearls  at  her  throat.  Then,  too,  Agostino  Busti 
represented  the  youthful  victor  of  Ravenna,  Gaston 
de  Foix,  lying  on  a  mortuary  couch  in  full  armour, 
clasping  his  sword  to  his  heart,  as  he  died  on  the 
battlefield  which  he  had  won  for  France. 

The  same  spirit  moved  the  Venetian  sculptor  when 

250 


A   TOMB   AT   RAVENNA 

he  carved  this  figure  of  Guidarello  in  his  last  sleep. 
He  may  have  been  present  when  the  warrior's  corpse 
was  brought  home  from  Imola  amid  the  lamentations 
of  the  people  and  the  tears  of  Benedetta.  This  at 
least  is  the  impression  that  we  receive  from  his  work. 
The  good  knight  lies  on  a  richly  draped  bier,  clad  in  a 
complete  suit  of  armour,  with  his  helmet  on  his  brow 
and  the  collar  of  knighthood  on  his  neck.  The  coat 
of  mail  is  adorned  with  lion  heads,  and  his  hands,  in 
their  steel  gauntlets,  are  folded  over  the  long  sword 
which  reaches  down  to  his  feet.  Only  the  vizor  of 
his  helmet  is  raised,  and  the  dead  warrior's  face  is 
exposed  to  sight,  as  if  it  were  but  yesterday  that  the 
fatal  blow  had  fallen  and  put  an  end  to  his  life.  The 
head  has  dropped  a  little  on  one  side ;  the  eyes  are 
closed,  and  the  lips  parted  with  an  expression  of 
momentary  pain,  as  if  the  bitterness  of  death  had 
not  quite  passed  away.  <{  I  have  never  seen  so  mar- 
vellous a  work  of  art ! "  exclaimed  the  historian  of 
Florence,  Gino  Capponi,  when  he  stood  before  this 
tomb  at  Ravenna.  "  The  expression  of  the  face  gives 
the  effect  of  a  violent  end  with  a  truth  and  reality 
that  are  sublime  beyond  words.  It  is  the  very  life 
of  death/* l  And  so  much  did  the  Florentine  patriot 
admire  Tullio's  statue,  that  he  kept  a  cast  of  Guida- 
rello's  head  in  his  study  to  his  dying  day. 

1  Marco  Tabbarini,  Gino  Capponi^  p.  233. 

251 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Capponi's  words  express  what  we  all  feel  when  we 
look  on  this  masterpiece  of  Renaissance  sculpture. 
Were  it  not  for  this  effigy,  Guidarello's  name  would 
be  unknown  to-day,  and  his  great  deeds  would  have 
been  forgotten  long  ago.  Even  Sanudo's  chronicles 
and  the  Venetian  poet's  elegies  could  hardly  have 
saved  the  hero's  fame  from  oblivion.  But  the  love 
of  Benedetta  and  the  skill  of  Lombardi's  chisel  have 
combined  to  keep  his  memory  green,  and  to  make 
his  name  immortal. 

"  Tout  passe.  L'art  robuste 
Seul  a  Peternite.  Le  buste 
Survit  a  la  cite." 


252 


A    VISIT   TO    LA    VERNIA 

1884 

"  Salve  Mons  felix  Sinai  felicior  illo 

Scripsit  ubi  Moysi  jura  sacrata  Deus, 
Te  super  apparens  Crucifixus  tua  refulsit 
Francisco  oranti  Stigmata  sacra  dedit." 

FRA  LUCIDO. 

AREZZO  is  one  of  those  Tuscan  cities  which  is  the  most 
easy  of  access,  and  the  most  seldom  visited  by  ordi- 
nary travellers.  The  very  fact  that  it  is  only  three 
hours  by  train  from  Florence,  and  lies  on  the  mainf?  t 
line  to  Rome,  rather  tends  to  produce  this  result. 
Yet  Arezzo  offers  many  attractions  both  to  the  student 
of  art  and  history,  and  those  who  can  devote  a  few 
days  to  the  study  of  its  antiquities  will  find  the  time 
well  spent. 

In  the  first  place,  Arezzo  is  a  bright  and  pleasant 
town,  prettily  situated  on  a  sloping  hill,  which  rises 
gently  from  the  Val  Chiana,  and  surrounded  by 
loftier  mountains.  It  is  famous  for  the  lightness 
and  salubrity  of  its  air,  which,  as  long  ago  as  Giovanni 
Villani's  days,  was  popularly  supposed  to  impart  a 
certain  delicacy  and  refinement  of  intellect — in  the 
words  of  Michael  Angelo,  "  sottilitd  " — to  its  natives. 

253 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

"  Dear  Giorgio,"  the  great  man  would  say  to  Vasari, 
himself  an  Aretine  by  birth,  "  if  my  mind  is  worth 
anything,  I  owe  it  to  the  fine  air  of  your  Arezzo 
country."  And,  indeed,  the  roll  of  illustrious  Aretines 
of  all  ages  is  a  long  one.  In  those  ancient  days  when 
Arretium  formed  one  of  the  twelve  cities  of  the 
Etruscan  confederation,  it  was  the  home  of  the  power- 
ful Cilnii  family,  from  which  Maecenas  descended. 
In  mediaeval  times  the  poet  Petrarch,  Guittone,  the 
inventor  of  the  sonnet ;  the  artists,  Margaritone  and 
Spinello  ;  Guido,  the  improver  of  the  musical  system  ; 
Pietro  Aretino,  the  satirist,  and  many  others,  equally 
well  known,  first  saw  the  light  within  the  walls  of 
Arezzo. 

The  Aretines  have  shown  a  praiseworthy  reverence 
for  their  great  men  from  the  time  when  they  invited 
Petrarch  to  visit  the  house  where  he  was  born,  during 
his  father's  exile  from  Florence,  and  which  had  been 
preserved  with  religious  care  by  the  public  magis- 
trates. The  notes  of  the  musical  scale  with  which 
the  name  of  the  Benedictine  monk,  Guido,  is  for  ever 
linked,  are  still  to  be  seen  painted  outside  the  house, 
which  was  once  his  home  ;  and  the  number  of  com- 
memorative tablets  on  the  walls  has  given  rise  to  the 
common  saying,  that  the  stones  still  speak  in  Arezzo. 

From  Etruscan  days  the  coral-red  jars  manufac- 
tured at  Arretium  were  held  in  high  esteem,  and  have 
been  celebrated  both  by  Martial  and  Pliny.  Speci- 

254 


A   VISIT   TO   LA   VERNIA 

mens  of  this  pottery  may  still  be  seen  at  the  Museum, 
and  since  the  bronzes  discovered  here  have  been  moved 
to  Florence,  these,  with  a  few  ancient  inscriptions,  are 
the  only  traces  left  of  Etruscan  and  Roman  remains. 
But  in  treasures  of  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  century 
art  Arezzo  is  rich.  It  has  a  noble  Duomo,  one  of  the 
earliest  and  most  interesting  examples  of  Italian  Gothic 
architecture,  bearing  a  close  resemblance  to  S.  Maria 
Novella  of  Florence,  and  containing,  among  other 
choice  sculpture,  the  famous  tomb  on  which  the 
battles  and  sieges  of  the  warrior  bishop  Tarlati  are 
represented.  In  another  quarter  of  the  town,  on  the 
picturesque  old  market-place,  is  the  ancient  shrine 
of  S.  Maria  della  Pieve,  whose  fantastic  front  of 
twisted  columns  and  arcaded  apse  have  won  a  new 
claim  on  the  interest  of  this  generation  as  the  "  pillared 
church,"  of  Pompilia's  soldier-saint,  Giuseppe  Capon- 
sacchi,  Canon  of  the  Pieve.  Lastly,  we  have  in  S. 
Francesco  a  storehouse  of  the  noblest  mediaeval  art 
from  the  chapel  where  Spinello's  archangel  flashes 
down  upon  us  with  his  drawn  sword,  to  the  choir 
where  we  find  the  wonderful  series  of  frescoes  by  the 
hand  of  a  painter  who  amazes  us  by  his  mastery  of 
form  and  effect,  while  he  fascinates  us  by  the  deep 
poetry  and  spiritual  force  of  his  conceptions.  If 
Arezzo  contained  nothing  but  these  scenes  from  the 
legend  of  the  True  Cross  by  Piero  della  Francesca, 
it  would  be  well  worthy  of  a  visit.  When  we  have 

255 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

seen  all  this  we  can  go  beyond  the  walls  and  explore 
the  tract  of  country  known  as  the  Casentino  or  valley 
of  the  Upper  Arno.  A  fiercely  contested  battle- 
ground it  was  in  Dante's  time,  when  Arezzo  was  the 
great  stronghold  of  the  Ghibelline  party,  who  from 
its  walls  waged  war  on  the  Guelfs  of  Florence,  and 
this  fair  Aretine  territory  was  laid  waste  by  repeated 
invasions  of  the  foe. 

It  is  hard  to  recall  that  warlike  age  in  our  own  days 
when  the  Casentino  was  a  rich  and  smiling  district, 
fair  at  all  times,  but  most  of  all  in  the  early  autumn 
when  purple  figs  and  scarlet  pomegranates — fomi  £ 
oro — hang  in  clusters  from  the  trees,  and  acacias  and 
vines  are  touched  with  their  first  tints  of  gold.  The 
vintage  had  already  begun  on  the  warm  September 
day  when  we  left  the  gates  of  Arezzo  and  drove  up 
Val  d'Arno  to  visit  the  renowned  mountain  sanctuary 
of  La  Vernia.  The  vineyards  on  either  side  of  the 
road  were  alive  with  bright  groups  of  peasants  gather- 
ing the  first  ripe  grapes,  and  piling  up  the  large  wicker 
baskets  into  waggons  harnessed  with  white  oxen  who 
stood  lazily  by,  shaking  their  heads  now  and  then  to 
drive  away  the  flies  with  the  crimson  tassels  which 
hung  over  their  foreheads. 

For  three  hours  we  followed  the  course  of  the 
Arno,  which,  "  not  content  with  its  hundred  miles 
race,"  here  begins  those  interminable  windings  through 

the  midst  of  this  fair  Tuscan  land  which  Dante,  in 

256 


A   VISIT  TO   LA   VERNIA 

his  bitter  invective  against  the  dwellers  on  its  banks, 
describes  as  peopled  alternately  with  curs,  wolves, 
and  foxes  ;  in  other  words,  Aretines,  Florentines, 
and  Pisans. 

In  the  Casentino  it  is  still  a  clear  mountain  stream, 
flowing  quietly  along  its  rocky  bed,  spanned  here  and 
there  by  bridges  with  raised  arches  telling  of  winter 
seasons  when  the  now  slumbering  waters  reach  a 
perilous  height. 

As  we  proceed  onward  up  the  hill  towards  Bibbiena 
in  the  Casentino,  we  are  reminded  at  every  step  of 
Dante's  minute  description  of  these  scenes  which  he 
knew  so  well.  From  the  green  slopes  on  either  side 
descend  those  glittering  rills,  the  cool  waters  for  which 
the  forger  Adam  of  Brescia  thirsted  in  the  flames  of 
hell.  To  our  left  is  the  mountain  of  the  Pratomagno 
dividing  the  Casentino  from  the  lower  valley  of  Arno  ; 
to  the  right  that  "  great  yoke  of  Apennine,"  which 
forms  the  water-shed  of  Tuscany  and  Umbria,  and 
separates  the  streams  which  fldw  into  the  Arno  from 
those  which  join  the  Tiber.  Before  we  began  the 
last  steep  ascent  into  Bibbiena  our  vetturino,  pointing 
with  his  whip  to  a  lofty  fir-clad  crest  towering  high 
above  a  desolate  ridge  of  bare  cliffs,  cried  out  "  Ecco 
La  Vernia  !  "  There,  before  our  eyes,  was  the  moun- 
tain where  the  strange  monk  of  old  sought  out  a 
solitude  far  removed  from  the  haunts  of  men.  La 
Vernia,  whose  barren  rocks  and  pine  forests  have  been 

257  R 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

painted  by  Giotto  and  Angelico,  and  a  hundred  other 
artists,  for  the  sake  of  Francis,  La  Vernia  of  which 
Dante  sang  in  the  highest  spheres  of  Paradise. 

"  Nel  crudo  sasso  intra  Tevere  ed  Arno 
Da  Cristo  prese  1'ultimo  sigillo 
Che  le  sue  membra  du'  anni  portarno." 

Bibbiena  itself,  where  we  spent  the  night  before 
undertaking  the  steep  ascent  of  Monte  Alvernia,  is  a 
flourishing  little  town  in  the  heart  of  the  Casentino, 
standing  in  the  midst  of  cornfields  and  chestnut 
woods.  Brown-faced  children  and  dark-eyed  maidens, 
with  smooth,  long  tresses  and  broad  straw  hats, 
looked  curiously  at  us  from  the  door-steps  as  we  passed, 
and  every  roof  and  window  of  the  quaint  old  wooden 
houses  was  gay  with  heaps  of  orange-coloured  maize 
spread  out  to  dry  in  the  sun. 

The  walls  of  Bibbiena  were  razed  by  the  Florentines 
in  their  anger  with  the  inhabitants  who  received  the 
exiled  Medici  on  their  expulsion  in  1509,  but  its  chief 
claim  on  public  notice  rests  on  the  celebrity  attained 
by  one  of  its  natives,  Bernardo  Dovizi,  better  known 
as  Cardinal  Bibbiena,  the  Secretary  of  Leo  X,  and  the 
friend  and  patron  of  Raphael.  It  is  to  the  credit  of 
the  worldly  prelate  and  author  of  the  Calandra 
that  in  his  busy  Roman  life,  amidst  all  the  honours 
which  the  Pope  showered  upon  him,  he  did  not  forget 
his  birthplace,  but  erected  the  church  of  S.  Lorenzo 

258 


A   VISIT  TO   LA   VERNIA 

there,  and  decorated  its  altars  with  some  fine  terra- 
cottas from  the  atelier  of  the  Delia  Robbias.  One  of 
these  is  a  Pieta  surrounded  with  lovely  angels  and 
saints,  the  other  a  Nativity.  Both  are  encircled  in  a 
wreath  of  cherub  heads,  vine-leaves,  and  clusters  of 
fruit,  all  exquisitely  carved,  and  delicately  coloured. 
The  heartrending  expression  of  grief  on  the  Virgin's 
face  in  the  former,  and  the  startled  expression  of  the 
shepherds  as  the  heavenly  vision  breaks  upon  their 
eyes,  have  much  in  common  with  the  masterpieces  of 
Andrea  della  Robbia  at  La  Vernia,  and  were  probably 
the  work  of  the  same  master. 

It  was  in  the  plains  below  the  old  ramparts  of 
Bibbiena  that  the  great  fight  of  Campaldino  took 
place  on  the  nth  of  June  1289  between  the  Ghibel- 
lines  of  Arezzo  and  the  Florentine  Guelfs.  Dante 
himself,  then  a  young  man  of  four-and-twenty,  fought 
in  the  thick  of  the  battle  in  the  ranks  of  the  cavalry, 
and  in  a  letter  quoted  by  Leonardo  Aretino,  he  de- 
scribes how,  after  narrowly  escaping  defeat,  his  own 
side  won  the  day,  and  completely  routed  the  Aretines, 
whose  warlike  Bishop,  Ubertini,  was  slain  in  the  en- 
gagement. In  the  fifth  canto  of  the  Purgatory,  he 
puts  the  tale  of  that  fatal  evening  into  the  mouth  of 
one  of  the  unhappy  fugitives  who  died  of  his  wounds 
in  the  flight,  and  whose  corpse  was  whirled  along  the 

waters  of  the  Archiano,  a  stream  which  falls  into  the 

259 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Arno  just  below  Bibbiena.  The  description  of  the 
clouds  gathering  over  the  mountains  towards  dusk 
and  falling  in  torrents  of  rain  on  the  battlefield  heaped 
with  dead  and  dying,  is  given  with  all  the  vividness  of 
an  eye-witness.  To-day  all  is  still  in  those  fair  regions. 
The  ashes  of  Guelf  and  Ghibelline  warriors  have  fed 
the  golden  corn  that  waves  on  the  fertile  plain,  and 
the  peaceful  music  of  the  "  Angelus  "  rings  along  the 
green  hillside  which  once  echoed  to  the  noise  of 
clashing  steel  and  the  confused  shouts  of  struggling 
horsemen.  We  looked  across  the  valley  at  the  towers 
of  Poppi  rising  on  the  opposite  hill  in  the  calm  glow 
of  the  evening  sunlight,  and  listened  to  the  bells 
of  the  Bibbiena  churches  behind  us  until  the  tale  of 
that  hard- won  fight  which  Dante  had  made  real  to  us 
seemed  to  fade  away  again  into  the  dimness  of  past 
ages,  and  we  forgot  that  the  wooded  slopes  below  us 
had  ever  been  the  scene  of  strife  and  bloodshed. 

Early  the  next  morning  we  started  for  La  Vernia 
through  fields  of  tall  maize  and  woods  laden  with  those 
chestnuts  for  which  Bibbiena  was  famous  as  long  ago 
as  Burchiello's  days.  Skirting  the  banks  of  the  Corsa- 
lone  torrent  we  passed  through  a  forest  where  ilex 
and  holly  and  here  and  there  fig-trees  and  laurels 
mingled  with  the  shady  chestnut-trees  until  we  crossed 
the  stream,  and  the  more  arduous  part  of  the  ascent 
began.  These  remote  scenes  were  not  unknown  to 

260 


A   VISIT   TO    LA   VERNIA 

English  travellers  of  past  generations,  and  if  on  the 
further  side  of  Arno 

"  Vallombrosa  remotely  remembers 
The  foot  which  she  knew  when  her  leaves  were  September's," 

these  forest  shades  recall  the  home-sick  lay  of  the  exiled 

Jacobite  who 

• 

"  Heard  on  La  Vernia  Scargill's  whispering  trees, 
And  pined  by  Arno  for  my  lovelier  Tees." 

But  as  we  climb  the  rugged  mountain-side  and  seek 
out  a  path  among  rocks  overgrown  with  moss  and 
brambles,  we  leave  other  memories  behind  for  those  of 
Francis.  Every  step  is  hallowed  by  the  remembrance 
of  his  presence  in  these  parts,  and  our  peasant  guides 
could  point  out  the  oaks  which  mark  the  place  where 
he  rested  and  the  spring  from  which  he  drank,  as  well 
as  the  monks  themselves.  The  very  birds  clapped 
their  wings  with  joy  at  his  coming,  they  told  us,  quot- 
ing almost  the  words  of  the  "  Fioretti " — "  our 
brothers  and  sisters  sang  out  to  bid  him  welcome." 
As  we  ascended  higher,  the  road  became  steeper  and 
the  rocks  more  barren,  until  we  reached  the  grass 
meadows  at  the  base  of  the  perpendicular  cliffs  at 
the  top  of  which  the  convent  stands.  A  little  further 
on  at  a  spot  known  as  La  Beccia,  or  the  Fountain  of  St. 
Francis,  is  a  small  hostelry  built  by  the  municipality 

of  Florence  for  the  reception  of  women-pilgrims,  and 

261 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

from  this  point  a  rough  path  cut  in  the  rock  leads  to 
the  convent  gates. 

The  story  of  the  foundation  of  the  sanctuary  in 
this  secluded  and  inaccessible  region  can  only  be 
briefly  told  here,  but  is  given  in  all  its  picturesque 
details  by  the  Saint's  biographers. 

When  Francis  was  passing  by  the  castle  of  Monte- 
feltro  on  one  of  his  journeys  his  attention  was 
attracted  by  the  sound  of  music  and  festivities  pro- 
ceeding from  its  walls.  Hearing  that  these  rejoicings 
were  kept  to  celebrate  the  investiture  of  a  member 
of  the  family  with  knighthood,  he  entered  the  court 
of  the  castle,  and  preached  to  the  assembled  guests 
with  such  fervour,  that  the  whole  company  listened 
entranced  at  his  eloquence.  Among  the  guests  was 
a  certain  Orlando,  Count  of  Chiusi,  or  Clusentinum, 
a  citadel  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Monte  Alvernia, 
whence  the  name  of  Casentino  is  derived.  This 
wealthy  Tuscan  noble  desired  to  converse  with 
Francis,  and  deeply  moved  by  his  zeal  and  devotion, 
offered  him  a  wild  and  barren  mountain  which  he 
owned  in  Tuscany  as  especially  fitted  by  its  seclusion 
for  a  place  of  retreat  and  contemplation. 

Francis  accepted  the  gift  gratefully,  and  finding 
the  lonely  heights  of  La  Vernia  "  devout  and  apt  for 
prayer,"  spent  many  weeks  in  a  rude  hut,  which 
Orlando,  who  had  climbed  the  hill  to  welcome  him 

262 


A   VISIT   TO   LA   VERNIA 

with  a  train  of  armed  servants,  made  for  him  out  of 
the  branches  of  trees,  which  they  cut  down  with  their 
swords.  When  the  fame  of  the  Stigmata  had  made 
La  Vernia  sacred,  and  the  three  monks  who  had 
originally  accompanied  Francis  were  daily  joined  by 
new  brethren  who  came  in  ever  increasing  numbers, 
it  was  found  necessary  to  erect  a  more  substantial 
building,  and  twenty-six  years  after  the  death  of  the 
Patriarch,  the  convent  itself,  a  solid  structure  of  stone 
capable  of  receiving  ninety  monks,  was  raised  by  the 
alms  of  the  faithful. 

The  massive  walls  which,  with  their  narrow  loop- 
holes, look  like  some  mediaeval  fortress  crowning  the 
precipitous  heights  and  seem  to  form  part  of  the  rock 
itself,  are  said  to  belong  to  the  original  building,  but 
the  greater  portion  of  the  first  convent  was  destroyed 
by  fire  in  the  fifteenth  century,  and  rebuilt  on  the  same 
ground  by  the  Florentine  Guild  of  Cloth  Merchants. 
This  august  company  took  the  convent  under  its 
especial  protection,  and  the  municipality  of  Florence 
have  continued  to  exercise  the  same  beneficent  in- 
fluence on  behalf  of  the  present  Franciscan  community. 

Each  year  the  Gonfaloniere  or  a  specially  elected 
deputy  visits  La  Vernia  on  the  iyth  of  September 
when  the  festival  of  the  Stigmata  is  held,  and  plants 
the  standard  of  Florence  at  the  convent  gates.  It 
is  partly  owing  to  this  protection  and  partly  to  the 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

reverence  in  which  the  memory  of  Francis  is  held  that 
La  Vernia  has  been  one  of  the  few  convents  spared 
by  the  Italian  Government.  The  present  community 
numbers  about  a  hundred  Franciscan  monks,  all  use- 
fully and  actively  engaged.  Many  are  sent  out  to 
preach  in  the  neighbouring  villages  and  travel  about 
Umbria  and  Tuscany  teaching  the  poor  peasantry 
and  ministering  to  their  wants  in  health  and  sickness. 
Some  are  sent  to  preach  Lent  and  Advent  sermons 
in  Florence  and  other  large  towns,  while  of  those  who 
remain  at  home  some  are  engaged  in  theological 
studies,  and  others — the  lay  portion  of  the  community 
we  may  suppose — are  employed  in  the  Farmacia  and 
go  out  as  doctors  among  the  poor,  or  else  work  as 
woodcutters,  carpenters,  blacksmiths  and  shoemakers, 
besides  performing  the  necessary  labour  of  the  large 
establishment  and  attending  to  the  duties  of  hospi- 
tality, no  light  task  at  those  seasons  when  pilgrims 
from  all  parts  flock  to  La  Vernia.  In  the  week  of  the 
festival  of  the  Stigmata,  which  had  taken  place  about 
a  fortnight  before  our  visit,  our  peasant  guides  in- 
formed us  that  the  number  of  pilgrims  had  been  as 
many  as  two  thousand. 

A  day  rarely  passes  without  some  pilgrimage  of 
Tuscan  or  Umbrian  peasants  visiting  the  shrine,  and 
the  day  we  arrived  we  found  a  party  of  contadini,  who 

had  climbed  the  hill  before  us,  attending  mass  in  the 

264 


THE   CONVENT   OF    LA   VERNIA 


A   VISIT   TO   LA   VERNIA 

great  convent  church.  As  we  entered,  two  monks 
were  officiating  at  the  high  altar,  while  another  played 
the  organ,  and  from  the  choir  at  the  easternmost  end 
of  the  church  came  the  rich,  full  voices  of  the  Brothers 
Minor  chanting  the  office. 

Immediately  service  was  over,  a  courteous  and 
intelligent  friar  advanced  to  greet  us,  and  finding  we 
could  not  accept  his  offer  to  spend  the  night  at  La 
Vernia,  conducted  us  at  once  over  the  convent  in 
company  with  the  peasants  who  had  arrived  that 
morning. 

The  chief  conventual  buildings  are  grouped  round 
a  paved  courtyard  which  we  enter  by  a  narrow  gate- 
way. Near  this  spot  is  the  chapel  of  S.  Maria  degli 
Angeli,  the  first  church  raised  on  the  mountain,  and 
begun  in  the  days  of  Francis,  from  whom  it  received 
the  name  of  his  own  beloved  Porziuncula  at  Assisi. 
The  ancient  wooden  desks  at  which  the  monks  recited 
their  offices  are  still  to  be  seen  here,  and  a  Delia 
Robbia  relief  representing  the  Virgin  when  she  ap- 
peared to  St.  Bonaventura  and  gave  him  the  measure 
of  the  chapel  which  was  built  in  exact  accordance 
with  her  directions,  and  has  to  this  day  remained 
unaltered. 

When  the  community  became  too  numerous  to 
worship  in  this  small  chapel,  another  Count  of  Chiusi 
began  the  great  church,  which  was  completed  in  1445 

265 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

by  the  Florentine  merchants  of  the  Arte  della  Lana, 
and  is  united  to  S.  Maria  degli  Angeli  by  a  tall  bell- 
tower  containing  the  actual  bell  from  Orlando's  Castle 
of  Chiusi.  This  relic  of  the  original  lord  of  La  Vernia 
was  moved  here  by  the  special  permission  of  Lorenzo 
de'  Medici,  and  has  been  twice  recast  since  it  has 
occupied  its  present  position.  Orlando  himself  be- 
came a  member  of  the  third  order  of  Francis  in  the 
Saint's  lifetime,  and  lies  buried  in  the  little  church 
of  S.  Maria  degli  Angeli.  Many  are  the  noble  bene- 
factors who  gave  their  gold  to  build  or  adorn  a  chapel 
at  La  Vernia,  and  whose  bones  rest  in  the  precincts 
of  the  convent. 

Among  the  decorations,  which  were  the  gift  of 
Florentine  citizens,  are  several  altar-pieces  of  the 
Della  Robbia  school,  which  is  largely  represented  at 
La  Vernia.  Of  these,  three  masterpieces  by  the  hand 
of  Andrea  della  Robbia  are  to  be  seen  in  the  Chiesa 
Maggiore,  the  Annunciation,  Nativity,  and  Ascension. 
The  two  former,  in  their  delicate  blue  and  white 
tints,  are  exquisite  specimens  of  this  master  who 
carried  the  art  of  Luca's  invention  to  the  highest 
degree  of  perfection  of  which  it  is  capable. 

Never  was  the  spirit  of  the  words  Ecce  ancilla 
Domini  rendered  more  perfectly  than  in  the  lowly 
maiden  kneeling  before  the  angelic  messenger  who, 

swift  and  strong  in  his  youthful  beauty,  bends  on  one 

266 


A   VISIT   TO    LA   VERNIA 

knee  to  utter  his  Ave.  And  surely  not  even  Raphael 
himself  ever  painted  a  sweeter  and  more  life-like  image 
of  childhood  than  that  of  the  radiant  Child-Christ, 
who  holds  up  his  ringers  to  his  lips  and  laughs  for  joy 
in  his  mother's  face. 

As  in  the  well-known  Annunciation  on  the  Hos- 
pital of  the  Innocents  in  Florence,  by  Andrea,  a  tall 
white  lily  growing  in  a  pot  stands  between  Gabriel 
and  the  Virgin,  and  a  frieze  of  classic  moulding  takes 
the  place  of  the  usual  wreath  of  flowers  and  fruit 
that  frames  in  the  subject. 

The  monk  who  was  our  guide  seemed  to  catch  a 
gleam  of  inspiration  from  these  terra-cotta  pictures, 
which  were  so  familiar  to  him,  and  his  bronzed  face 
was  lighted  up  with  genuine  pleasure  as  he  pointed 
to  the  Nativity,  and  exclaimed :  "  But  see  that 
Child,  how  natural,  how  expressive ! — the  breath 
alone  is  wanting."  And  as  we  stood  before  the 
Ascension,  he  turned  to  the  heretic  Inglesi  with  a 
kindly  smile  :  "  Ecco  !  "  he  said  ;  "  these  are  the  same 
for  you  as  for  us.  They  are  written  for  us  all  in  the 
Bible  ;  there  is  nothing  to  separate  us  here." 

He  led  us  out  on  the  broad  piazza  in  front  of  the 
church,  and  after  showing  us  many  smaller  chapels 
raised  to  commemorate  different  events  in  the  life  of 
Francis,  he  conducted  us  through  a  long  covered 

cloister  to  the  chapel  erected  on  the  site  of  the  great 

267 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

beech-tree,  where  the  great  Saint  knelt  rapt  in  prayer 
when  he  received  the  Stigmata.  This  gallery,  which 
runs  along  the  edge  of  the  cliff  looking  down  on 
Bibbiena  and  the  valley  below,  was  built  two  hundred 
years  ago  to  shelter  the  monks  from  the  piercing  cold 
of  the  winter  nights  during  their  long  vigils.  Twice 
in  the  twenty-four  hours,  at  midnight  and  after 
vespers,  they  pass  in  procession  through  this  cloister 
to  the  chapel,  chanting  litanies  in  honour  of  the  Stig- 
mata. The  cloister  itself  is  decorated  with  curious 
terra-cotta  representations  of  the  Via  Crucis,  and  over 
the  door  of  the  chapel  is  a  beautiful  figure  of  Francis 
holding  the  cross  in  his  hand,  by  one  of  the  Delia 
Robbias. 

The  chapel,  which  was  begun  thirty-seven  years 
after  the  death  of  Francis,  when  the  wondrous  tale 
of  the  Stigmata  was  fresh  in  the  hearts  of  his  followers, 
still  retains  its  original  features,  and  a  bronze  grating 
in  front  of  the  altar  marks  the  exact  spot  which  the 
reverence  of  ages  has  consecrated.  Above  the  altar 
is  another  great  relief  by  Andrea  della  Robbia  repre- 
senting the  Crucifixion,  and  remarkable  for  the  beauty 
of  the  weeping  angels,  who  hover  in  mid- air,  clasping 
their  hands  together  or  covering  their  faces  in  ago- 
nised grief,  as  well  as  for  the  power  of  expression 
shown  in  the  different  saints  assembled  at  the  foot 

of  the   Cross.    The  figure  of  Francis,  who  stands 

268 


A   VISIT   TO   LA   VERNIA 

opposite  the  Virgin,  bears  a  striking  resemblance  to 
the  well-known  head  of  S.  Giovanni  Gualberto  in 
the  Vallombrosa  altar-piece  by  Perugino,  and  shows 
how  near  this  artist  in  terra-cotta  came  to  the  highest 
achievements  of  the  best  Umbrian  masters.  In  re- 
finement of  type  and  sincerity  of  devotional  emotion, 
Andrea  della  Robbia's  sorrowing  saints  yield  to  none 
of  his  contemporaries'  creations,  while  the  twenty- 
three  cherub-heads,  each  different  and  each  instinct 
with  life,  set  in  the  frame  of  the  altar-piece,  have  all 
the  charm  and  innocent  grace  which  belong  to  Luca's 
children. 

After  showing  us  many  other  smaller  chapels,  our 
guide  led  us  down  rudely  cut  steps  to  different  caves 
hidden  in  the  rock,  each  hallowed  by  the  presence  of 
Francis,  or  by  the  memory  of  some  heavenly  vision 
which  appeared  to  him.  The  peasants  and  children 
who  accompanied  us  listened  intently  to  the  glowing 
language  in  which  the  monk  described  each  separate 
incident  of  the  story,  and  falling  on  their  knees  re- 
peated a  Pater  Noster  and  Gloria  Patri  devoutly  after 
him. 

Our  courteous  guide  was  now  summoned  away  to 
attend  to  other  duties,  but  before  taking  his  leave, 
he  led  us  across  the  piazza  to  the  guest  chamber, 
where  we  were  hospitably  entertained  by  a  lay-brother. 

We  had  a  companion  at  dinner  in  the  person  of  the 

269 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Bibbiena  doctor,  who  had  ridden  up  that  morning  to 
see  a  sick  monk,  and  had  brought  his  little  girl  with 
him  on  her  first  visit  to  La  Vernia.  It  was  touching 
to  see  the  delight  and  amusement  with  which  the 
monks  gathered  round  the  child,  asking  her  name, 
patting  her  curly  head,  and  feeding  and  petting  her 
in  the  fondest  manner.  Naturally  enough,  they 
seemed  to  hail  gladly  any  communication  with  the 
outer  world,  and  a  venerable-looking  old  brother  who 
had  weathered  the  snows  and  frosts  of  more  than 
eighty  winters  in  this  desolate  abode,  amused  us  by 
the  eagerness  with  which  he  asked  our  friend  the 
doctor,  "  What  news  in  Bibbiena  ?  "  Although  so 
remote  a  place  to  us,  the  little  mountain  town  was 
evidently  to  him  the  centre  of  life  and  business. 

Later  in  the  day  we  ascended  the  highest  point 
of  the  mountain,  a  rock  called  La  Penna.  Passing 
under  an  arched  gateway  behind  the  church,  and 
leaving  the  long  low  building  which  contains  the 
friars'  cells  on  our  left,  we  crossed  a  woodyard,  where 
two  brothers  were  sawing  planks  of  timber,  and  came 
out  into  the  bosco  of  fine  beech-trees  and  tall  pines, 
where  the  birds  of  old  sang  to  Francis,  while  Orlando's 
men-at-arms  cut  down  logs  to  build  his  first  rude 
huts.  The  view  from  the  chapel  on  the  summit  is 
magnificent.  On  the  one  side  we  looked  down  upon 

Tuscany,  on  the  other  on  Umbria  and  the  March  of 

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A   VISIT  TO   LA   VERNIA 

Ancona.  Far  to  the  east  were  the  lofty  mountains 
of  San  Marino,  and  the  pale  blue  hills  which  surround 
the  Lake  of  Thrasymene,  and  stretch  from  Perugia 
to  Siena,  and  Radicofani.  Looking  westward,  at  our 
feet  lay  the  rich  Casentino  vineyards  and  cornfields, 
with  Poppi  and  Bibbiena  each  standing  out  on  their 
separate  hills.  On  our  right  we  could  see  the  gorge 
of  the  Zucca,  where  the  Tiber  rises  to  flow  down  by 
Borgo  San  Sepolcro  into  the  Umbrian  plains.  To 
the  left,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Casentino,  was  the 
mountain  of  the  Falterona,  and  the  sources  of  the 
Arno.  Immediately  below,  on  the  southern  slope  of 
the  mountain  stood  of  old  the  Castello  di  Chiusi, 
renowned  not  only  as  the  home  of  Count  Orlando, 
but  as  the  citadel,  where  Lodovico  Buonarroti 
was  Podesta,  when  in  March  1475  his  son  Michael 
Angelo  was  born.  Here,  at  Caprese,  "  in  the  close 
vicinity  of  the  rock  of  La  Vernia,  where  S.  Francis 
received  the  sacred  wounds  of  the  Stigmata,"  writes 
Giorgio  Vasari,  "  under  the  influence  of  some 
fortunate  star,  the  child  drew  his  first  breath  in  our 
pure  Aretine  air."  Thus  these  lonely  mountain 
heights  won  a  new  glory,  and  the  name  of  Michael 
Angelo  comes  to  blend  with  the  memories  of  Dante 
and  Francis,  which  throng  upon  us  at  La  Vernia. 

A  well-favoured  spot  this  shady  grove  of  Francis 
seemed  to  us  as  we  stood  there  that  bright  autumn 

271 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

evening,  and  looked  down  on  the  bare  crags  and  huge 
masses  of  debris  that  lay  upheaved  about  us  on  every 
side  in  wild  confusion.  For  this  was  the  one  corner 
of  the  desolate  rock  where  the  beech-trees  spread  their 
leaves  of  tender  green  against  the  sky,  and  violets 
and  cyclamen  peeped  out  among  the  moss-grown 
trunks,  paying  silent  tribute  to  the  memory  of  him 
who  prayed  best,  because  he  loved  best  all  things 
both  great  and  small,  who  thanked  his  Lord  for  the 
bright  blossoms,  and  the  green  grass,  and  called  the 
swallows  his  brothers  and  sisters. 

And  so,  with  the  sun  touching  the  highest  Apen- 
nine  tops  with  gold,  and  the  sweet  mountain  air 
blowing  in  our  faces  across  the  slopes  of  Michael 
Angelo's  native  hills,  we  looked  our  last  on  La  Vernia, 
and  turned  our  faces  southwards,  wondering  once 
more  over  the  story  of  Francis,  this  great  and  tender 
heart  which  overflowed  with  such  untold  love  to  God 
and  man. 


272 


GIOVANNI    COSTA— HIS    LIFE    AND 
ART:    1904 

"  March  to  the  tune  of  the  voice  of  her, 
Breathing  the  balm  of  her  breath, 
Loving  the  light  of  her  skies. 
Blessed  is  he  on  whose  eyes 
Dawns  but  her  light  as  he  dies. 
Blessed  are  ye  that  make  choice  of  her 
Equal  to  life  and  to  death."— A.  SWINBURNE. 

COSTA'S  name  and  art  are  not  unknown  in  this  country. 
He  often  visited  these  shores,  and,  as  he  always  said, 
found  his  best  patrons  in  England.  Many  of  our 
leading  painters,  George  Mason  and  Burne-Jones,  Sir 
Laurence  Alma-Tadema  and  Mr.  Watts  were  among 
his  friends  and  admirers.  One  of  them,  Lord  Leigh- 
ton,  lived  on  terms  of  affectionate  intimacy  with  him 
for  nearly  half  a  century.  Costa,  on  his  part,  ex- 
erted considerable  influence  on  several  English  artists. 
He  was  one  of  the  first  to  recognise  Mason's  talent 
and  had  a  large  share  in  the  development  of  that 
master's  style.  Besides  this,  he  formed  a  small  school 
of  his  own  in  England,  and  numbered  among  his 
pupils  the  late  Matthew  Ridley  Corbet,  A.R.A.,  Lord 
Carlisle,  Mr.  Walter  James,  and  others,  whose  re- 
fined and  poetic  landscapes  are  often  seen  in  our  chief 
exhibitions.  Costa  himself  was  a  regular  contributor 

to  the  summer  shows  at  Burlington  House,  the  Gros- 

273  s 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

venor,  and  the  New  Gallery  during  the  last  thirty 
years  of  his  life,  and  his  delicate  views  of  the  blue 
hills  and  reedy  shores  of  Bocca  d'Arno  are  familiar  to 
us  all.  In  1882  he  held  an  exhibition  of  his  works  in 
the  Fine  Art  Society's  rooms  in  Bond  Street,  which 
met  with  remarkable  success  and  aroused  admiration 
in  the  most  unexpected  quarters.  To  name  only  one 
instance,  William  Ernest  Henley  hailed  Costa  on  this 
occasion  as  the  direct  successor  of  the  French  land- 
scape-painters of  1830,  and  became  from  that  moment 
his  stoutest  champion.  In  1904  another  exhibition 
of  his  paintings  was  held  at  the  galleries  of  the  Old 
Water  Colour  Society  in  Pall  Mall,  where  a  full  and  re- 
presentative collection  of  his  art  was  displayed.  At  the 
present  time  a  considerable  proportion  of  the  Roman 
master's  finest  works  are  in  English  hands.  One  of 
his  largest  landscapes,  a  "  Sunrise  on  the  Mountains  of 
Carrara,"  was  presented  to  the  National  Gallery  by  his 
English  friends  in  1 896,  and  now  hangs  in  the  Gallery 
of  British  Art.  His  "  Bella  di  Lerici,"  the  figure  of  a 
handsome  contadina  descending  a  steep  hillside,  was 
bought  many  years  ago  by  the  King,  then  Prince  of 
Wales.  Other  important  examples  are  in  the  pos- 
session of  Lord  Carlisle,  Lord  Davey,  Mr.  Douglas 
Freshfield,  Mr.  W.  C.  Cartwright,  Mr.  Percy  Wynd- 
ham,  Mr.  Stopford  Brooke,  and  Mrs.  Albert  Rutson. 

What,  then,  is  the  claim  that  we  make  for  Costa  ? 

274 


GIOVANNI    COSTA 

How  may  we  define  the  special  note  that  lends  his 
art  a  permanent  and  enduring  value  ?  In  the  first 
place,  it  possesses  the  rare  quality  of  distinction. 
There  is  no  trace  of  formality  or  artificiality  about  his 
work.  It  bears  the  stamp  of  undeniable  originality, 
of  long  and  patient  research,  and  is  at  the  same  time 
distinguished  by  unerring  obedience  to  the  great  and 
abiding  laws  of  design.  When  Costa  began  to  study 
painting  seriously,  in  the  middle  of  the  last  century, 
Italian  art  had  sunk  to  a  very  low  ebb.  The  Roman 
artists  who  flourished  in  the  forties  and  fifties  seldom 
painted  landscape  except  as  a  background  for  historical 
or  mythological  subjects.  They  revelled  in  theatrical 
effects  and  sensational  colouring,  and  sought  to  attain 
popularity  by  aping  the  cheap  mannerisms  and  worst 
defects  of  the  French  and  Spanish  school.  Costa 
boldly  broke  with  these  false  ideals  and  academic 
conventions,  and  went  straight  to  Nature  for  his 
teaching,  maintaining,  with  his  great  fellow  country- 
man, Leonardo,  that  "  if  you  do  not  build  on  this 
good  foundation,  you  will  labour  with  little  honour 
and  less  profit."  This  close  study  and  accurate  ob- 
servation of  natural  fact  is  the  leading  characteristic  of 
all  Costa's  work.  The  Italy  that  he  paints  is  not  the 
conventional  Italy  of  Claude  and  Poussin.  His  know- 
ledge of  his  native  land  is  of  a  deeper  and  more  inti- 
mate kind.  When  he  painted  the  picture  of  the 

275 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Carrara  mountains,  now  in  the  National  Gallery,  he 
rose  at  four  o'clock  each  morning  for  several  weeks,  and 
walked  five  or  six  miles  to  the  same  place  to  watch  for 
the  precise  moment  when  the  morning  mists  would 
clear  away  and  the  sun  break  over  the  far  hills.  And 
so  it  has  been  with  all  his  work.  Like  Corot  he  used 
to  spend  long  days  in  the  open  air,  laying  wait  for 
certain  effects  of  light  and  atmosphere,  and  returning 
day  by  day  to  the  same  place  in  order  that  his  first 
impressions  might  be  renewed  and  deepened.  There 
is  no  sign  of  haste  or  impatience  in  his  work.  He 
lingered  lovingly  over  every  detail,  and  often  kept  his 
pictures  for  years  in  his  studio,  refining  and  improv- 
ing his  conceptions  and  refusing  to  be  content  with 
anything  short  of  perfection. 

Next  to  Nature,  Costa  studied  the  Old  Masters 
who  were  the  glory  of  Italy  in  past  ages.  The  Primi- 
tives of  Florence  arid  Siena,  of  Lombardy  and  Umbria, 
were  the  painters  to  whom  he  turned  throughout  his 
life  with  never-failing  love  and  admiration.  "  Our 
Italy  is  beautiful,  our  race  is  noble  and  highly  gifted," 
he  wrote  in  one  of  his  last  appeals  to  the  artists  of 
Rome  ;  "  let  us  love  our  land  and  paint  her  as  we  see 
her,  let  us  go  to  Nature  and  to  the  glorious  examples 
of  our  Old  Masters,  and  our  work  will  be  worthy  of 
the  name  we  bear."  Here,  then,  we  have  Italian 

landscapes  painted  by  an  Italian  master,  in  accordance 

276 


GIOVANNI   COSTA 

with  the  best  traditions  of  Italian  art.  The  very 
technique  that  Costa  employed  was  founded,  as  he 
has  told  us,  on  a  careful  study  of  the  Old  Masters. 
It  was  his  practice,  as  Professor  Angeli  and  Signora 
Agresti  have  told  us,1  to  sketch  out  the  subject  of  his 
picture  in  red  monochrome,  after  which  he  laid  in 
the  shadows  in  grey,  and  added  the  blues  and  greens 
and  browns,  and  finally  the  yellows  and  high  lights. 
As  he  tersely  explained  the  process  himself,  "  First 
the  fire,  then  the  cinders,  last  of  all  the  flame  !  "  In 
the  restraint  and  tranquillity  of  his  style,  in  the 
directness  and  sincerity  of  his  work,  in  the  sober 
harmonies  of  his  colouring,  Costa's  art  has  a  certain 
affinity  with  the  old  Tuscans  and  Umbrians  whom  he 
loved  so  well.  We  can  hang  his  landscapes  on  the  same 
wall  as  their  works  without  striking  a  discordant  note. 
On  the  other  hand,  Costa  is  thoroughly  modern 
in  the  strong  personal  element  that  enters  into  his 
art.  His  landscapes  are  no  mere  servile  imitations 
or  photographic  reproductions  of  the  beauties  of 
Nature.  "  The  brain,"  he  often  said,  "  must  play 
its  part,  the  artist  must  make  his  own  selection  and 
give  us  his  own  impressions,  not  a  mere  inventory  of 
separate  facts  !  "  This  is  what  we  feel  so  strongly 


1  La  Rassegna  Internationale,  1901,  p.  i,  and  Rivista  Moderna, 
1903,  p.  71.  Signora  Agresti  is  also  the  author  of  an  interesting 
appreciation  of  Gosta  in  the  Studio  for  1903. 

277 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

in  Costa's  own  transcripts  of  Nature.    The  painter's 
own  emotion  and  delight  in  the  scene,  his  intimate 
sympathy  with  the  subject,  is  always  present  in  his 
work   and   becomes   part   of   the   picture.     In   such 
little  paintings  as  Lord  Leighton's  "  Winter  Evening  in 
the  Woods  of  Fajola,"  with  the  sheep  feeding  under  the 
bare  trees  and  the  yellow  light  breaking  over  the  low 
wooded  hills,  or  in  that  other  study  of  "  Autumn  in  the 
Forests  of  Albano,"  he  seems  to  summarise  the  peculiar 
scenery  of  the  Alban  hills,  and  makes  us  feel  the  innate 
spirit  of  the  place  and  hour — "  the  intense  tranquillity 
of  silent  hills  and  more  than  silent  sky."     Costa  was, 
in  fact,  as  Mr.  Henley  was  fond  of  saying,  "  a  thorough 
Words worthian."     Nature    had    for    him    the    same 
subtle  attraction  that  it  had  for  poets  such  as  Shelley 
and  Wordsworth,   and  deep  at  the  root  of  all  his 
renderings  of  her  changeful  moods  we  feel  the  same 
dim  glimmerings  of  the  truth  that  lies  at  the  heart 
of  things,  the  same  mysterious  sense  of  a  Love  which 
"  impels  all  thinking  things,  all  objects  of  all  thought." 
These  are  some  of  the  different  elements  that  help 
to  make  up  the  rare  and  indefinable  charm  of  Costa's 
work.     The  range  of  his  art,  of  course,  is  narrow. 
He  confines  himself  almost  entirely  to  one  style  of 
subject,   and    returns   by   preference    to    the    same 
subjects.     But   within   these   limitations   his    art   is 

very  perfect  and  exquisite.    "  There  is,  however,"  as 

278 


GIOVANNI   COSTA 

Leighton  once  wrote,  "  something  even  nobler  than 
Costa's  art,  and  that  is  his  life."  Few  of  those  who 
admire  the  delicate  finish  of  his  paintings  would  ever 
have  dreamt  that  this  master  whose  work  breathes  an 
atmosphere  so  calm  and  serene  has  often  braved 
prison  and  death,  and  risked  all  for  his  country's  sake. 
When  his  pictures  were  exhibited  in  Bond  Street,  a 
well-known  critic  wrote  that  it  was  easy  to  see 
these  paintings  were  the  work  of  an  exceptionally 
fortunate  man  who  had  led  a  prosperous  and  sheltered 
life,  and  knew  nothing  of  the  hard  struggle  for  ex- 
istence which  is  commonly  the  artist's  lot.  He  was 
amazed  to  hear  that  Costa  had  fought  on  many  a 
fiercely  contested  battlefield  and  had  entered  Rome 
in  the  van  of  the  victorious  army  which  stormed  the 
bastions  of  Porta  Pia  in  the  war  of  1870.  The  story 
of  those  heroic  days  deserves  to  be  remembered. 

Giovanni  Costa  was  born  in  Rome  on  October  15, 
1826.  His  father,  Gioacchino  Costa,  owned  a  large 
woollen  factory  in  Trastevere,  and  lived  there  with 
his  family  of  sixteen  children,  in  the  days  when  the 
Borgo  still  retained  its  old  gardens  and  mediaeval 
towers.  Giovanni,  or  Nino  as  his  Roman  friends 
affectionately  called  him,  the  fourteenth  in  the  family, 
was  intended  for  the  law,  but  before  he  reached  the 
age  of  fifteen  his  artistic  leanings  could  no  longer  be 

restrained,  and  his  parents  reluctantly  consented  to 

279 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

his  choice.  His  first  teacher  was  Baron  Camuccini, 
a  fashionable  painter  in  the  pseudo-classical  style. 
The  ardent  soul  of  the  young  Roman,  however, 
chafed  at  the  restrictions  of  conventional  art,  and  his 
master  had  the  good  sense  to  recognise  this.  Just 
as  Paul  Delaroche  said  to  Millet,  "  Tu  es  trop  nouveau 
pour  moi,"  so  Camuccini  said  to  young  Costa,  "  Go 
your  own  way,  leave  the  studio  and  learn  of  Nature 
for  yourself."  The  boy  obeyed  gladly  and  went  back 
to  his  sketches  and  open-air  life.  But  the  times  were 
not  favourable  to  the  study  of  art.  Italy  was  slowly 
waking  from  her  long  sleep.  The  spirit  of  revolution 
was  abroad,  and  young  Costa  flung  himself  with  his 
whole  might  into  the  struggle  for  freedom.  Before 
he  was  two-and-twenty  he  had  already  drawn  the 
sword  in  the  good  cause.  "  During  my  whole  poli- 
tical life,"  he  writes  in  a  fragment  of  autobiography 
which  he  once  placed  in  my  hands,  "  without  party 
spirit,  I  have  supported  whichever  side  seemed  to  be 
working  most  honourably  and  effectively  for  the 
freedom  and  welfare  of  my  country.  I  have  placed 
myself  and  my  fortune  at  the  service  of  one  political 
party  after  another,  seeking  neither  honours  nor 
rewards,  and  receiving  none."  In  1848  the  young 
artist  joined  the  Roman  legion  which  fought  under 
the  Papal  flag  against  the  Austrians,  and  when  Pio 

Nono  disappointed  the  hopes  which  he  had  raised 

280 


GIOVANNI   COSTA 

among  the  friends  of  liberty,  he  became  a  follower  of 
Mazzini.  He  fought  with  Garibaldi  in  the  gallant 
attack  on  Vascello,  and  was  one  of  the  defenders  of 
Porta  San  Pancrazio.  When  the  Papal  forces  tri- 
umphed, and  Rome  was  no  longer  a  safe  place  for  the 
young  patriot,  he  took  refuge  in  the  forests  of  Ariccia, 
and  there  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of  art.  During 
the  next  seven  years  Costa  lived  on  the  Roman  Cam- 
pagna,  between  the  Alban  hills,  the  Sabine  range  and 
the  sea,  without  once  missing  a  sunrise  or  a  sunset. 
On  these  plains,  "  spiritualised  "  in  Sterling's  words, 
"  by  endless  recollections,"  the  young  painter  lived 
in  daily  communion  with  Nature.  He  saw  the  wide 
reaches  of  the  Campagna  break  into  vivid  green  under 
the  touch  of  spring,  and  turn  crimson  with  decaying 
vegetation  in  the  late  summer  and  autumn ;  he 
watched  the  red  glow  of  the  sunset  touch  the  long 
lines  of  arches  which  cross  the  violet  plains,  and  linger 
behind  the  tombs  of  the  Appian  Way,  and  the  beauty 
of  those  scenes  sank  deep  into  his  soul.  The  pictures 
which  he  painted  at  this  period  show  how  close  was 
his  acquaintance  with  the  country  and  its  inhabitants. 
We  see  the  peasants  threshing  and  winnowing  the 
grain,  the  charcoal-burners  at  work  in  the  forest,  the 
women  waiting  with  their  jars  at  the  fountain  in  the 
groves  of  Ariccia,  or  collecting  dead  wood  under  the 

wind-blown  pines  on  the  desolate  sands  of  Ardea. 

281 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

The  Pontine  marshes  have  supplied  Costa  with  many 
subjects,  more  especially  the  immediate  neighbour- 
hood of  Porto  d'Anzio  and  the  Circean  shore.  "  Coeli 
enarrant  gloriam  Dei "  is  the  title  of  a  wide  view  over 
the  sea  and  the  marshes,  under  a  fine  sky  and  rolling 
cumulus  cloud.  "  A  Sirocco  Day  on  the  Shore  near 
Rome,"  the  property  of  Mr.  Stopford  Brooke,  shows  us 
the  same  coast  with  a  foreground  of  stunted  brushwood, 
and  a  gleam  of  light  breaking  through  the  heavy 
clouds  on  the  foam-crested  waves  and  the  tired  wood- 
man bending  under  his  load.  One  exquisite  little 
picture  on  which  the  painter  himself  set  great  store 
is  a  "  Sunrise  near  Terracina,"  with  a  stretch  of  grassy 
sward  and  ploughland  in  the  foreground,  and  in  the 
distance  the  summit  of  Monte  Circeo  rising  above  the 
pale  blue  line  of  sea — a  little  gem  of  rich  and  delicate 
colour.  Another  small  painting  which  had  an  especial 
interest  for  Costa  is  that  of  a  fishing-boat  drawn  upon 
the  beach  under  the  burning  glow  of  an  August 
sunset.  This  little  study  was  long  the  property  of 
Lord  Leighton,  and  in  that  boat  Costa  and  George 
Mason  once  lived  during  a  whole  summer.  Towards 
the  close  of  this  period  Costa  painted  the  large  picture 
of  "  Women  carrying  Wood  to  the  Boats  on  the  Shore 
of  Porto  d'Anzio,"  a  work  in  which  the  studies  of  his 
Roman  years  may  be  said  to  be  summed  up.  Here 

the  statuesque  forms  and  majestic  bearing  of  these 

282 


I 
GIOVANNI   COSTA 

peasants  of  Latin  race  agree  with  the  noble  lines  of 
the  landscape  and  the  sombre  tints  of  sky  and  forest, 
and  no  one  can  wonder  at  the  admiration  which  the 
Roman  master's  painting  excited  in  the  breast  of 
Corot  and  his  brother-artists  when  it  was  exhibited 
at  Paris  in  1862.  Many  years  afterwards  it  was 
bought  by  the  Italian  Government,  and  now  hangs 
in  the  Galleria  Nazionale  d'Arte  Moderna  in  Rome. 
In  this  and  all  the  works  of  the  same  period  we  note 
the  subtle  skill  with  which  the  painter  renders  the 
different  effects  of  the  Italian  atmosphere,  the  brilliant 
clearness  of  tramontana  weather,  the  flying  dust  that 
fills  the  air  when  the  sirocco  blows,  the  parched  look 
of  the  sandy  shores  and  motionless  sleep  of  the  waves 
on  a  sultry  day,  or  the  wet  grey  mists  muffling  the 
hills  after  a  rainy  night. 

During  the  seven  years  when  he  lived  in  the  Cam- 
pagna  Costa  formed  some  of  his  most  lasting  friend- 
ships with  foreign  artists,  many  of  whom  joined  him 
in  his  outdoor  studies.  Among  these  were  Franz 
Lenbach,  the  great  German  portrait-painter  ;  Arnold 
Bocklin,  whose  mystic  temperament  and  passion  for 
beauty  found  a  quick  response  in  Costa's  soul ;  Cor- 
nelius and  Overbeck,  whose  sincerity  and  reverent 
love  for  the  old  masters  he  admired  if  he  could  not 
share  their  wish  to  recall  a  vanished  past.  Then,  too, 

George  Mason  joined  him  in  his  wanderings,  and  young 

283 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

Leighton,  who  was  painting  his  "  Procession  of 
Cimabue  "  in  Rome,  first  learnt  to  know  and  love  him. 
The  personality  of  the  Roman  master  was  a  singularly 
attractive  one.  His  fine  and  thoughtful  countenance, 
clear  brown  eyes,  and  strongly  marked  features  are 
familiar  to  us  from  Leighton's  portrait,  while  the 
childlike  simplicity  and  modesty  of  his  nature,  his 
sincerity  and  enthusiasm,  endeared  him  to  many  who, 
having  once  known  him,  remained  his  friends  for  life. 
But  the  noise  of  battle  soon  came  to  break  the  calm 
of  these  happy  days.  In  1859  Victor  Emanuel  raised 
his  standard,  and  Costa  enlisted  in  the  corps  of 
Piedmontese  Lancers,  known  as  the  Aosta  Caval- 
leggeri,  and  fought  at  Solferino  and  San  Martino. 
After  the  peace  of  Villafranca  he  retired  to  Florence, 
and  this  city  remained  his  home  until  the  final  re- 
union of  Italy  in  1870.  The  scenery  of  Tuscany 
inspired  him  with  several  charming  pictures.  He 
painted  the  ilexes  of  the  Boboli  gardens,  and  the  flower- 
ing elms  of  Vaga  Loggia,  and  made  a  dreamlike  sketch 
of  "  Evening  in  the  Cascine,"  with  boat  and  woods  and 
river  all  flooded  with  the  solemn  rapture  of  the  sunset. 
Then,  too,  he  penetrated  into  the  forest  of  Gombo, 
and  the  remote  regions  at  the  mouth  of  the  Arno, 
where  he  found  the  subjects  of  many  of  his  finest 
works  in  this  district,  as  yet  unknown  to  the  tourist. 
Three  of  the  most  important  are  now  in  England :  the 

284 


GIOVANNI    COSTA 

"  Sunrise  at  Bocca  d'  Arno,"  in  the  National  Gallery ; 
the  "  Fiume  Morto,"  belonging  to  Mrs.  Albert  Rutson 
—a  romantic  scene  of  wooded  gorge,  sleeping  waters, 
and  purple  mountain  ;  and  Mr.  Douglas  Freshfield's 
"  Autumn  Morning  in  the  Mountains  of  Carrara,"  a 
view  of  the  same  hills  veiled  in  white  mist,  with  the 
rising  sun  faintly  flushing  the  slopes  and  a  single 
pine-tree  standing  out  on  the  russet  plain,  waiting 
for  the  springtime  that  will  not  always  tarry. 

In  1862  Costa  went  to  Paris,  where  his  works 
met  with  general  admiration  from  the  masters  of 
the  Fontainebleau  school.  Corot  hailed  him  as  a 
comrade,  and  embraced  him  in  the  name  of  Hobbema 
as  the  worthy  successor  of  the  great  landscape-painters 
of  old.  He  visited  Rousseau  at  Barbizon,  and  con- 
versed with  Millet,  whose  serious  and  noble  character 
impressed  him  deeply.  It  was  then,  in  the  woods  of 
Marlotte,  that  he  painted  his  life-size  figure  of  a  nude 
nymph  at  the  fountain,  which  he  kept  in  his  studio 
until  he  died,  always  altering  and  improving  it.  As  a 
rule,  it  must  be  owned,  Costa's  large  figures  were  not 
successful,  but  when  this  "  Ninfa  nel  Bosco  "  was  ex- 
hibited, after  his  death,  the  Roman  critics  declared  it 
to  be  the  painter's  masterpiece.  In  1863  Costa  went 
to  England  at  Leighton's  invitation,  and  the  two 
friends  together  visited  Mason  in  his  Staffordshire 
home,  and  cheered  that  sorely  tried  artist  in  his 

285 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

struggle  with  failing  health  and  poverty.  Here  Costa, 
after  his  wont,  discovered  unexpected  beauties  in  the 
Black  Country,  a  district  which  he  often  compared 
with  the  Roman  Campagna,  and  found  new  subjects 
for  his  brush  in  the  wooded  hollows  and  sequestered 
pools  of  remote  country  places.  Either  at  this  time 
or  during  the  later  visits  which  he  paid  to  England, 
he  painted  pictures  of  Kensington  Palace,  Barn- 
borough  Castle,  Naworth,  and  other  historic  houses, 
and  took  new  delight  in  rendering  the  moist  verdure 
and  luxuriant  foliage  of  English  gardens,  and  the 
rolling  clouds  and  misty  effects  of  our  English  skies. 

In  1864  Costa  was  recalled  to  Rome  by  new 
political  developments,  and  did  his  utmost  to  awaken 
a  patriotic  spirit  among  his  fellow-citizens.  His 
studio  of  the  Via  Margutta  became  the  meeting- 
place  of  the  revolutionary  party,  and  when  the  forlorn 
hope  of  Villa  Glori  proved  a  failure,  he  himself  joined 
Garibaldi  and  served  on  the  general  staff  at  Mentana. 
After  that  disastrous  day,  Costa,  feeling  that  the 
gates  of  Rome  were  for  ever  closed  to  him,  returned 
again  to  Florence,  overwhelmed  with  sadness  at  the 
failure  of  his  hopes  and  the  loss  of  many  of  his  dearest 
friends.  In  the  bitterness  of  his  heart  he  sought 
consolation  in  lonely  wanderings  on  the  shores  of  the 
Tuscan  Maremma,  and  here  in  these  dark  hours  he 

painted  his  noble  picture  of  "  Earth's  Last  Kiss  to 

286 


GIOVANNI   COSTA 

the  Dying  Day."  The  sea-gulls  circling  in  the 
stormy  sky  above  the  wild  waste  of  waters,  and  the 
waves  breaking  on  the  desolate  strand,  all  help  to  give 
the  same  impression  of  dreariness  and  regret  for  a 
past  that  can  return  no  more.  "  Che  paia  il  giorno 
pianger  che  si  muore  !  "  But  the  hour  of  deliverance 
was  nearer  than  he  dreamt.  Once  more  the  call  to 
arms  sounded,  and  in  1870  Costa,  true  to  the  old  cause, 
enlisted  in  the  ranks  of  the  Italian  army  which  marched 
upon  Rome,  and  was  the  first  to  enter  the  breach  in 
the  walls  of  Porta  Pia.  At  the  head  of  his  troops  he 
fought  his  way  through  the  streets  and  was  the  first 
to  enter  the  Capitol  and  sign  a  decree  for  the  release 
of  political  prisoners.  The  dream  of  his  youth  was 
at  length  fulfilled.  Costa  felt  that  his  work  was 
done,  and  although  he  remained  a  member  of  the 
Municipal  Council  during  the  next  seven  years,  he 
took  no  further  part  in  politics.  "  The  fact  that  I 
worked  with  all  parties  in  turn,"  he  wrote  in  1882, 
"  has  left  me  the  goodwill  of  none,  but  at  least  I  am 
free  to  devote  myself  to  the  study  of  my  art."  With 
true  patriotism  he  sought  to  raise  the  tone  of  national 
art,  and  formed  the  society  of  "  In  Arte  Libertas  " 
in  the  hope  of  drawing  the  artists  of  the  rising  genera- 
tion into  closer  union,  and  inspiring  them  to  emulate 
the  triumphs  of  the  mighty  past.  Meanwhile  his 
own  efforts  after  higher  perfection  never  slackened. 

287 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

"  Do  well,"  he  said  to  young  artists,  "  and  you  will 
reach  the  hearts  of  the  few ;  do  better,  and  you  will 
be  understood  of  all."  Much  of  Costa's  best  work 
was  done  during  the  next  twenty  years.  He  travelled 
in  other  parts  of  Italy,  often  accompanied  by  Leighton, 
and  brought  back  sketches  of  those  enchanted  regions 
"  where  earth  has  a  garment  of  glories  and  a  murmur 
of  musical  flowers."  He  painted  the  silvery  olives  of 
Lerici  and  the  terraced  gardens  of  Capri,  Venice 
rising  from  the  green  lagoon  in  the  radiant  freshness 
of  summer  morning,  and  the  waves  at  the  foot  of  the 
Faraglioni  rocks  dancing  and  sparkling  in  the  evening 
sunlight.  Umbria  attracted  him  by  its  rugged  moun- 
tain scenery  and  memories  of  St.  Francis,  and  his 
admiration  for  the  Saint  of  Assisi  found  its  highest  ex- 
pression in  the  large  picture  of  "  Sunrise  at  Perugia — 
Fra  Francesco  and  Fra  Sole  " — which  was  exhibited  at 
the  Grosvenor  Gallery  in  1 886,  and  became  the  property 
of  Lord  Carlisle.  The  opening  verse  of  Francis'  hymn 
to  all  living  creatures  is  the  motto  of  this  painting  : 

"  Laudato  sia  Dio  mio  Signore 
Con  tutte  le  sue  creature ; 
Specialmente  Messer  lo  Frate  Sole 
II  quale  giorna  e  illumina  mii  per  lui. 
Et  ello  e  bello  et  radiante  cum  grande  splendore ; 
Di  te,  Signore,  porta  significazione." 

St.  Francis  is  represented  in  the  habit  of  his  order, 

standing  on  the  brow  of  the  hill,  lifting  up  his  hands 

288 


GIOVANNI   COSTA 

in  a  rapture  of  joy  of  thanksgiving  as  the  sun,  rising 
above  the  dark  mass  of  Monte  Subasio,  floods  the  land 
of  the  saint's  birth  with  splendour.  Below  lies  the 
broad  bed  of  the  Tiber  and,  in  all  its  varied  loveliness, 
the  fair  Umbrian  valley  with  bell-towers  and  villages, 
grey  olives  and  tall  cypresses,  scattered  over  the  plain. 
Every  detail  of  leaf  and  flower  is  painted  with  infinite 
love  and  patience,  and  hill  and  valley  are  blended 
together  in  one  rich  harmony  of  colour.  When  Costa 
painted  that  picture  he  evidently  had  in  his  mind  the 
lines  of  the  Paradiso,  in  which  Dante  sings  of  the  fortu- 
nate city  hanging  on  the  mountain-side,  where  rose 
on  the  world  the  new  sun  whose  bright  beams  were 
to  gladden  the  whole  earth.  "  Therefore,  let  he  who 
names  yonder  city  no  longer  say  Assisi  but  Orient  !  " 
In  1885  Costa  bought  a  villa  at  Bocca  d'Arno,  that 
region  where  he  had  already  painted  some  of  his 
finest  pictures  and  where  he  spent  the  summer  and 
autumn  months  of  his  remaining  years.  Here  Leigh- 
ton  and  his  other  English  friends  came  to  see  him,  and 
his  happiest  hours  were  spent  in  sketching  among 
the  hills.  Up  to  the  last  days  of  his  life  the  old 
maestro  might  be  seen,  going  out  before  dawn  on 
September  mornings,  followed  by  a  child  bearing  his 
easel  and  brushes,  to  watch  the  sunrise  or  catch  some 
new  effect  of  light  or  colour  that  he  was  trying  to 

paint.     Years  had  bowed  his  back  and  weakened  his 

289  T 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

powers,  but  his  enthusiasm  and  love  of  Nature  were 
as  great  as  they  had  been  in  the  time  when  he  spent 
long  days  and  nights  on  the  Campagna,  fifty  years 
before.  In  1881  Costa  paid  another  visit  to  England, 
and  in  the  following  June  held  the  successful  exhibition 
of  his  works  which  has  been  already  mentioned.  His 
work  was  never  fully  appreciated  by  his  own  country- 
men, and  he  often  declared  laughingly  that  he  was  the 
most  unpopular  artist  in  Italy  !  But  in  England,  as 
he  always  owned,  he  met  with  a  recognition  and  a 
kindness  that  were  altogether  beyond  his  deserts. 
Fourteen  years  later  he  came  back  again,  and  was 
the  guest  of  Lord  Carlisle  for  several  months  during 
the  summer  of  1896.  Leighton  had  died  a  short 
time  before,  and  Costa  was  present  at  the  sale  of  his 
works,  and  recognised  with  tears  in  his  eyes  the 
sketches  which  he  had  seen  his  friend  paint  in  Rome 
forty  years  ago.  He  himself  had  lately  suffered 
heavy  reverses  of  fortune,  but  he  met  these  changes 
with  his  wonted  courage  and  equanimity,  and  was 
deeply  grateful  to  his  English  friends  for  the  sub- 
scription which  they  raised  to  present  one  of  his 
pictures  to  the  National  Gallery.  What  pleased  him 
most  of  all  was  to  find  the  names  of  Sir  Edward 
Burne-Jones  and  Mr.  Watts — a  painter  whom  he 
revered  above  all  others — at  the  head  of  the  list. 

"  May  I  go  home,"  the  old  master  asked,  "  and  tell 

290 


GIOVANNI   COSTA 

my  friends  in  Rome  that  Mr.  Watts  really  thought  a 
picture  of  mine  worthy  to  hang  in  the  National 
Gallery  ?  "  And  when  Mr.  Watts  himself  confirmed 
the  statement  he  replied,  "  Then  I  shall  die  happy." 
The  master's  last  days,  we  rejoice  to  think,  were 
spent  in  peace  and  happiness.  In  his  old  studio  of 
the  Via  Margutta,  or  in  the  more  spacious  rooms  of 
the  Palazzo  Odescalchi,  he  lived,  surrounded  by  his 
own  sketches  and  the  memorials  of  his  artist  friends, 
the  portraits  of  his  two  daughters  painted  by  Leighton 
and  Alma-Tadema,  and  pictures  or  studies  by  Corot 
and  Decamps,  by  Arnold  Bocklin  and  Lenbach.  But 
the  fatigue  and  hardships  which  he  had  undergone 
during  his  different  campaigns,  and  the  cold  nights 
which  he  had  spent  on  the  Campagna,  had  told  upon 
his  vigorous  frame.  He  suffered  from  repeated  attacks 
of  arthritis  and  partly  lost  the  use  of  one  arm. 

"  Since  my  last  illness,"  he  wrote  with  his  stiffening 
hand,  "  I  paint  for  fewer  hours  at  a  time,  but  with 
greater  intensity  and  deeper  earnestness  than  before. 
Each  movement  gives  me  pain,  but  I  realise  the  joy 
of  overcoming  this  for  love  of  my  art.  So  I  have  at 
length  found  that  great  God  who  lives  at  the  heart 
of  things,  and  I  seek  with  all  my  might  to  set  forth 
that  divine  idea  which  lies  at  the  root  of  art.  And, 
burdened  as  I  am  with  the  weight  of  years,  I  take 
courage  when  I  think  of  the  many  good  friends  and 
great  painters  whom  I  have  known  and  loved,  and  my 

291  T2 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

trust  and  faith  grow  every  day  stronger  in  the  Eternal 
and  the  Unseen." 

To  the  last  Costa  worked  at  his  art,  feeling  that  he 
had  still  something  to  say,  and  painted  new  pictures  or 
planned  fresh  works  on  a  grander  scale.  In  the  New 
Gallery  of  1902  he  exhibited  two  studies  of  his  favourite 
regions.  One  was  a  "  Daybreak  at  Bocca  d'Arno,"  with 
the  cool  morning  light  stealing  over  the  blue  ridges  of 
Carrara,  "  le  nostre  montagne,"  as  the  aged  master 
fondly  called  them.  The  other  was  a  leaf  from  an 
old  sketch-book,  a  study  of  the  full  moon  rising  over 
the  Tyrrhenian  sea  while  the  last  crimson  streaks  of 
the  sunset  are  seen  dying  in  the  western  horizon.  It 
was  a  presage  of  the  coming  end.  In  the  summer  he 
went  as  usual  to  Bocca  d'Arno  and  began  to  paint 
another  picture.  But  it  was  never  finished.  The 
sands  of  life  were  fast  running  out,  and  on  the  last 
day  of  January  1903,  within  sight  of  his  own  moun- 
tains, the  "  strong  heroic  soul "  passed  away.  No 
man  ever  deserved  better  of  his  country  than  this 
Roman  painter  ;  none  has  left  a  purer  fame  or  a  more 
honoured  memory  behind  him. 


INDEX 


ACCIAIUOLI,  Acciaiuolo,  202-203 

—  Angelo,  223-224 

—  Bishop  Angelo,  216,  222,  229 

—  Jacopo,  215 

—  Lapa,  211,  225 

—  Lorenzo,  206,  213-214,  224-225 

—  Mona  Margherita,  210 

—  Niccold,  201-234 
Adrian  IV,  Pope,  144 

—  VI,  Pope,  74,  76,  91-92 
Ady,  C.  M.,  quoted,  175 
Agnolo,  Messer,  20 
Agresti,  Signora,  277 
Alberi,  E. ,  quoted,  77 

Alberti,  Leo  Battista,  36,  38 ;  quoted, 

8-10 

Albertinelli,  Mario tto,  227-228 
Albizzi,  Giovanna  degli,  20 
Alma-Tadema,  Sir  L. ,  273,  291 
Amadeo,  sculptor,  250 
Amico,  Frate,  203 
Angeli,  Prof.,  277 
Angelico,  Fra,  27 

Angelo,  Michel  (see  under  Buonarotti) 
Anichino,  Lodovico,  in 
Antiquario,  Jacopo,  49 
Antonio,  Piero,  144 
Aretino,  Leonardo,  259 

—  Pietro,  in,  112,  156,  254  ;  quoted, 
109 

Ariosto ,/><*?/,  32,  65,  77-78, 150  ;  quoted, 

4i 

—  Virginio,  47 
Armellini,  Cardinal,  94 
Atanagi,  D. ,  quoted,  121 
Atellano,  Scipio,  51 
Avila,  157 


BANDELLO,  Fra  Matteo,  49,  51,  59; 

quoted,  57-58 
Bandinelli,  Baccio,  63,  72 
Barbaro,  brothers,  126 
Barili,  Giovanni,  208 
Bastiano,  86 
Battista,  Giovanni,  156 
Bellincioni,  poet,  174 
Beltrami,  Signer,  167 


Bembo,  Antonia,  139 

—  Bernardo,  56,  84, 106, 113, 116, 134, 
137,  236;   quoted,   93,  97,   117-119, 
126-128 ;  death,  138 

—  Elena     (see     under      Gradenigo, 
Elena) 

—  Gian  Matteo,   139,   142,  156-157, 
163 

—  Lucilio,  142,  157 

—  Luigi,  157 

—  Marcella,  139,  142 

—  Morosina,  141-142,  154,  157-159 

—  Cardinal  Pietro,  135-164 

—  Torquato,  142,  159-161 
Benivieni,  Girolamo,  16 
Berenson,  Mr.,  167 
Bernardino,  S.,  105 
Bibbiena,  "  Bel  Bernardo,"  56 

—  Cardinal,  139,  258 

Boccaccio,   5,  7,   16,  212 ;  quoted,  6, 

208 

Bocklin,  Arnold,  283,  291 
Bode,  Dr.,  165-170 
Boiardo,  Count  Matteo,  32,  38,  46 
Bologna,  Giovanni  da,  99 
Bonifazio,  painter,  109 
Borgia,  Caesar,  56,  240-247 
—  Lucrezia,  56,  106,  136,  151,  172 
Borromeo,  Cardinal  Federia,  165 
Bossi,  Matteo,  191 
Bottari,  quoted,  67,  73 
Botticelli,  19,  20,  21,  28 
Bramante,  of  Urbino,  48,  66-73,  81,  84, 

188,  190 

Brooke,  Stopford,  274,  282 
Browne,  Sir  Thomas,  quoted,  116-117 
Brunelleschi  family,  22 
Bruno,  Cola,  142-143,  149,  159-162 
Buonafede,  Bishop  Leonardo,  230 
Buonarotti,  Lodovico,  271 

—  Michel  Angelo,  20,  62-63,  201,  228, 
253,  271 ;  quoted,  253 

Buondelmonti,  Andrea,  215 
Buontalenti,  gardener,  22 
Burckhardt,  quoted,  89 
Burne-Jones,  Sir  E.,  273,  290 
Busti,  Agostino,  250 
Byron,  Lord,  103 


293 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 


C/ESAR,  Julius,  65 

Caiazzo,  Count  of,  196 

Calmo,  Andrea,  102 ;  quoted,  129 

Cammelli,  Antonio,  12 

Campagnolo,  Domenico,  130 

Camuccini,  Baron,  280 

Capello,  Bianca,  103 

Cappellp,  poet,  149 

Capponi,  Gino,  quoted,  151-252 

CaxaAosso,  goldsmith,  66-72 

Cardona,  Viceroy,  56 

Carlisle,  Lord,  273-274,  288,  290 

Carretti  family,  198 

Cartwright,  Julia,  quoted,  178 

-  W.  C.,274 
Casola,    Canon    Pietro,   107;   quoted, 

104-105,  115 
Castagno,  Andrea,  224 
Castiglione,  Count  Baldassare,  54,  58- 

64,  73,  82,  87,  97,  116-119,  136,  150, 

153.  *98  ;  quoted,  31,  52,  74,  84-85 
Catherine,  Empress  of  Constantinople, 

202-205 

—  Queen  of  France,  230 
Catti,  Bernardino,  quoted,  246 
Cavenaghi,  Signer,  173 
Charles  III,  King  of  Naples,  96 

—  IV,  Emperor,  209-218 

—  VIII,  King,  179-180 
Chiericati,  Cardinal,  56 
Chigi,  Agostino,  79-80 

Chiusi,  Orlando,  Count  of,  262,  265- 

266,  271 

Cibo,  Franceschino,  93 
Clement  VII,  Pope,  72-73,  83-88,  91- 

95.  145 

—  VIII,  Pope,  46 
Colocci,  Angelo,  79,  152 
Colonna,  Francesco,  27 

—  Pompeo,  95 

—  Vittoria,  150 

Commines,  De,  107 ;  quoted,  172 
Contarini,  Agostino,  104 

—  Cardinal,  quoted,  129 

—  Gaspare\  113,  121,  148 

—  Taddeo,  168-169 
Contin,  quoted,  83 
Corbet,  Matthew  Ridley,  273 
Cornaro,  Alvise,  129-130, 149  ;  quoted, 

131 

—  Benedetto,  109 

—  Caterina,  Queen  of  Cyprus,  115, 
126,  136 

—  Marco,  75 

Corot,  276,  283,  285,  291 
Corradis,  Bernardina  di,  172,  192 
Correggio,  Niccol6  da,  37,  194 
Corte,  Archbishop  Benedetto  da,  191- 

192 

Cossa,  painter,  35 
Costa,  Gioacchino,  279 

—  Giovanni,  168,  273-292 


Credi,  Lorenzo  di,  28 
Crescenzi,  Piero,  2-3,  25 
Crisolino,  Flavio,  144,  147 
Crivelli,  Lucrezia,  193 
Curtius,  Lancinnus,  51 
Cusano,  Niccol6  de,  184 
Cyprus,  Queen  of  (see  under  Cornaro, 
Caterina) 


D'AMBOISE,  Cardinal  Georges,  197 
Dante,  138,  151,  236;  quoted,  256-259, 

289 

D'Anton,  Jean,  quoted,  50 
Davari,  S. ,  quoted,  62 
Davey,  Lord,  274 
Decamps,  artist,  291 
Decembrio,  Angelo,  46 
Delarode,  Paul,  quoted,  280 
D'Este,  Alfonso,  Duke,  36,  39-41,  154 

—  Alfonso  II,  Duke,  43,  45 

—  Beatrice  (see  under  Sforza) 

—  Borso,  Duke,  35-36 

—  Ercole,  Duke,  35-40,  48,  58,  181 

—  Ercole  II,  Duke,  42,  44 

—  Francesco,  172 

—  Ginevra,  34 

—  Cardinal  Ippolito,  99 

—  Isabella      (see      under      Mantua, 
Marchioness  of) 

—  Leonello,  Marquis,  33-35,  46 

—  Leonora,  Duchess,  38,  40,  172 

—  Margherita,  172,  184 

—  Niccold,  32-33 

—  Rene"e,  Duchess,  42 
Dini,  Agostino,  63 
Dolce,  L.,  quoted,  125 
Donatello,  229 

Doni,  Antonio,  124 
Dossi,  sculptor,  41 


EATON,  quoted,  96 

Edward  VII,  H.M.  King,  274 

Erasmus,  156 

Eustachio,  Filippo  da,  176 

Evelyn,  22 


FALCONETTO,  architect,  130 
Farnese,  Elisabetta,  96 

—  Margaret,  95-96 

—  Cardinal  Odoardo,  96 

—  Ottavio,  95-96 

Ferrara,  Duchess  of  (see  under  Borgia, 
Lucrezia) 

—  Duke  of,  no,  176 
Fiandrini,  quoted,  238 
Ficino,  Marsilio,  n,  16 
Fiesole,  Mino  da,  229 
Filarete,  architect,  175 
Filippino,  19 


294 


INDEX 


Finale,  Marchesa  del,  198 
Foglietta,  Agostino,  145,  152 
Foix,  Gaston  de,  250 
Folgore,  quoted,  2 
Fontana,  B.,  quoted,  43 
Foppa,  Vincenzo,  175 
Foscari,  132  ;  quoted,  92 
Fracostoro,/^/,  150 
Francesca,  Piero  della,  255 
Francesco,  Fra,  57 

—  Frate,  121 

—  Lorenzo,  21 

—  Pier,  21 

Francis  I,  King,  72,  96,  167,  198 
Franco,  Matteo,  19 
Frederick  III,  Emperor,  237 
Fregoso,  Antonio,  51 

—  Archbishop,  140 

—  Costanza,  149 
Freshfield,  Douglas,  274,  285 
Frizzoni,  Gustavo,  166,  167 


GABBIONETTA,  Archdeacon,  58 
Gabrielle,  Trifone,  60,  124,  141,  145, 

148,  150,  153,  158 
Gadio,  Stazio,  quoted,  70 
Gaillard,  engraver,  165 
Galileo,  201 

Gallerani,  Cecilia,  51,  173 
Gambara,  Veronica,  150,  154,  157 
Garibaldi,  General,  286 
Genga,  architect,  97 
Geymuller,  quoted,  98 
Ghiberti,  145,  152 
Ghirlandaio,  Ridolfo,  19-21,  230 
Gianni,  quoted,  2 
Giorgione,  87,  169 
Giovio,  Paolo,  152 
Giulini,  A.,  quoted,  172 
Gobbo,  II,  250 
Godefroi,  quoted,  180 
Gonzaga,  family,  53,  198 

—  Alessandro,  59 

—  Elisabetta,  55,  136,  172 

—  Federico  (see  under  Mantua,  Duke 
of) 

—  Francesca,  93 

—  Giovanni,  182 

—  Pirro,  58 
Goritz,  Bishop,  79 
Gozzoli,  Benozzo,  28-29 
Gradenigo,  Elena,  142,  159,  161-164 

—  Giorgio,  125 

—  Paolino,  162 

—  Pietro,  162 

Granvelle,  Cardinal  de,  96,  no 
Greco,  El,  130 
Grimani,  Antonio,  187 

—  Cardinal,  74,  78,  87,  108 
Gritti,  Andrea,  108 
Gruyer,  E.,  quoted,  41 


Gualberto,  S.  Giovanni,  269 
Guarini,  Battista,  96 

—  M.  A.,  quoted,  39,  44 
Guarino,  poet,  33,  46  ;  quoted,  34 

—  Taddea,  46 
Guicciardini,  quoted,  176 
Guidarelli,  Benedetta,  249-252 

—  Francesco,  237 

—  Guidorello,  237-242,  246-252 
Guido,  musician,  254 
Guidobaldo,  Duke,  56 
Guittone,  poel,  254 


HELENA,  Empress,  107 

Henley,  W.  E.,  274;  quoted,  278 

Henry  IV,  King  of  Valois,  no,  132 

Hercules,  statue  of,  71 

Hittorf,  quoted,  89 

Horace,  65 

Hungary,  King  of,  205 


INGHIRAMI,  Phaedrus,  79 
Innocent  VI,  Pope,  218 


JAMES,  Walter,  273 
Joanna,  Queen  of  Naples,  205  seq. 
Julius  II,  Pope,  44,  67-72 
Jupiter,  statue  of,  96 


LANDI,  Count  and  Countess,  149 

Landolfo,  210 

Laocoon,  The,  71-73,  77 

Lassels,  quoted,  103 

Leighton,    Lord,   273,    278,    282-285, 

289-291 ;  quoted,  279 
Lenbach,  Franz,  283,  291 
Leo  X,  Pope,  20,  56,  72-73,  80-81,  91- 

92,  98,   136,    139-140,   144;    death, 

82-83 
Leonardo  (see  under  Vinci,  Leonardo 

da) 

Leonico,  Professor,  148 
Liberius,  Archbishop,  248 
Liburnio,  Niccol6,  56 
Ligorio,  Pirro,  99 
Lombardi,  Pietro,  248-249 
—  Tullio,  105,  237,  248-251 
Longueil,  Christophe,  116-117 
Louis  of  Taranto,  King  of  Naples,  205- 

207,  218-220 

Louis  XII,  King  of  France,  197 
Lucido,  Fra,  253 
Lucullus,  65 
Luigi,  189 
Luzio,  A.,  quoted,  54,  57,  71,  94 


295 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 


MACHIAVELLI,  20;  quoted,  247 
Maecenas,  65,  254 
Maine,  Francesco  dal,  184 
Malavolti,  Lucrezia,  173 
Manetti,  Latino  Giovenale,  79 
Manfredi,  Astor,  241, 246  ;  quoted,  243 
Mantua,  Duke  of,  no 

—  Federico,  Duke  of,  56, 61-62, 70-72 

—  Isabella,      Marchioness     of     (ne'e 
D'Este),  41,  43,  52-64,  70,  78,  82, 
84,  92-94,  106,   no,  115,  154,  169, 
172, 178, 182, 194  ;  quoted,  241 

—  Marquis  of,  49,  83,  241 
Marcello,  Donate,  108 
Marcolini,  Francesco,  109,  in 
Margaritone,  artist,  254 
Maria,  Francesco,  82 
Martial,  254 

Martinioni,  quoted,  no 

Mason,  George,  273,  282,  285-286 

Maximilian  I,  Emperor,  168,  186-188, 

240 
Medici,  Contessina,  14 

—  Cosiino  de,  22,  28,  73,  174-175  ; 
quoted,  11-12 

—  Giovanni  de,  12-13 

—  Giuliano  de,  13,  56,  136,  239 

—  Cardinal  Giulio  de  (see  under  Cle- 
ment VII,  Pope) 

—  Lorenzo  de,  13-22,  36,    175-176, 
266 ;  quoted,  165 

—  Lorenzo  di  Piero  de,  230 

—  Lucrezia,  19-20 

—  Maria  de,  22 

—  Nannina  de,  23 

—  Piero  de,  12,  14,  20,  28-29,  239 

—  Society,  166 

Michelangelo  (see  under  Buonarotti) 
Michelozzo,  architect,  13,  26,  175 
Michieli,  Marc  Antonio,  108,  130,  168  ; 

quoted,  169-171 

Milan,  Duke  of  (see  under  Sforza) 
Millet,  285 

Mirandola,  Pico  della,  16 
Mocenigo  family,  133 
Molza,  141,  150 
Montaigne,  22 
Morelli,  166-167 
Moretto,  sculptor,  108 
Morgan,  Pierpont,  21 
Moro,  Lodovico  il,  66 
Morosini,  Marco,  187 
Morsolin,  B.,  quoted,  60-61 
Motta,  E.,  quoted,  40 
Miiller- Waldo,  Dr.  Paul,  171,  173 
Miindler,  Otto,  165 


NAPOLEON  I,  Emperor,  232 
Nardi,  Jacopo,  112 

Navagero,  Andrea,  60,   115-119,   136, 
150,  153-155  ;  quoted,  120-121 


Negri,  152;  quoted,  76 
Nelli,  Francesco,  208,  221 
Nona,  Bozza  da,  137 

ORGAGNA,  artist,  204,  224 
Orsini  brothers,  241 

—  Paolo,  243,  247 

PALLADIO,  Blosio,  79, 98, 126, 128, 132 

Palmieri,  Matteo,  224 

Passavanti,  Fra  Jacopo,  204 

Pastor,  L.,  quoted,  82 

Paul  III,  Pope,  113,  159 

Perugino,  169 

Peruzzi,  Baldassare,  80 

Pesaro,  Pietro,  74-78  ;  quoted,  91 

Petrarch,    Francesco,    148,    151,   202, 

205,  208-209,  2I2'  254 '•  quoted,  4-5, 

206-207,  219-220,  235 
Pico,  17,  20 
Pio,  Rodolfo,  141,  145 
Piombo,  Sebastiano  del,  80 
Pisanello,  painter,  34 
Pisani  family,  133 
Pitti,  Buonaccorso,  quoted,  8 
Pius  II,  Pope,  200 

—  Ill,  Pope,  99 

—  IV,  Pope,  99 

—  VI,  Pope,  233 
Pliny,  23,  65,  254 
Pocetti,  Bernardino,  231 
Pole,  Cardinal,  104,  129,  148 
Polenta,  Guido  da,  236 

Poliziano,  Angelo,  18,20-21;  quoted, 

L  IS-1? 

Pontormo,  Jacopo  di,  228 
Porta,  Baccio  della,  227 
Porto,  Bernardino  da,  149 

—  Luigi  da,  149,  154 
Predis,  Ambrogio  de,  166-173 
Priscianese,  Roman  grammarian,  ux- 

112 

Priuli,  Alvise,  124,  128-129 

—  Luigi,  149 
Puccio,  painter,  27 
Pulci,  19 

QUIRINI,  Elisabetta,  159,  163 

RAMUSIO,  Franceschina,  159 

—  Gian  Battista,  120,  150,  153,  156- 
158 

Raphael,  of  Urbino,  62,  73-75,  79,  80, 

83791,  97-iQi.  130,  136,  231 
Ricci,  Dr.  Corrado,  246 
Riario,  Girolamo,  81 
Robbia,  Andrea  della,  266-288 

—  Giovanni  della,  232,  265 

—  Luca  della,  229 

Robert,  King  of  Naples,  202,  205,  222 


296 


INDEX 


Robert!,  Ercole,  38 
Romano,  Cristoforo,  168 
—  Giulio,  61-63,  87-92,  95-98 
Rosate,  Ambrogio  di,  184,  189,  193 
Rossetti,  Biagio,  55 
Rossi,  Tribaldo  de,  18 
Rousseau,  T. ,  285 
Rucellai,  Giovanni,  20,  22 
Ruggieri,  51 

Rutson,  Mrs.  Albert,  274,  285 
Ruzzante,  actor,  131 


SACCHETTI,  Franco,  2 
Sadoleto,  poet,  73,  79,  142,  145,  152 
St.  Francis,  258-267  ;  hymn  of,  288 
Sale,  Bartolommeo  del,  249 

—  Benedetta  del,  238 
Sallust,  65,  78 
Salviati,  Francesco,  128 

—  Jacopo,  22 

San  Gallo,  family,  86 

—  Antonio  di,  86,  95,  99 

—  Battista,  86-87 

—  Francesco  di,  90,  229,  230 

—  Giuliano  di,  17,  19,  229 
San  Severino,  family,  213 

—  Cardinal  di,  197 

—  Galeazzodi,  171-179, 185, 188,  191, 
196 

—  Robert  di,  173 
Sandro,  painter,  21 
Sanmichelo,/az'#fer,  in 
Sannazzaro,  150 
Sansovino,  F.,  107-112,  198 
Santo,  Girolamo  del,  130 

Sanudo,   Marino,    106,    187-188,    196, 

239-245 

Sarto,  Andrea  del,  18,  228 
Scaligero,  Giulio  Cesare,  41 
Scarampi,  Camilla,  51 
Serassi,  quoted,  74 
Seregno,  Giacomo,  184,  186 
Sforza,  Cardinal  Ascanio,  189 

-  Beatrice  (nee  D'Este),  Duchess  of 
Milan,  40,  48,  49,  106,  115,  166-187, 
193  ;  statue  of,  55  ;  death,  195 

—  Bianca  Giovanna,  165-199 

-  Bianca  Maria,  168,  194 

—  Caterina,  22,  198,  240 

—  Cosimo,  22 

—  Francesco,  184 

—  Francesco  II,  51,  174 

—  Galeazzo,  172 

—  Galeazzo  Maria,  12-13 

—  Gian   Galeazzo,   Duke  of  Milan, 
148,  168,  172,  176,  182-184 

—  Giovanni,  22 

—  Ippolita,  51,73 

—  Isabella,  Duchess  of  Milan,    168, 
178-179,  182-184,  197 

—  Leone,  172, 190 


Sforza,  Lisa,  174 

—  Lodovico,  Duke  of  Milan,  37-40, 
48-49,    166-173,    176-178,    185-195, 
240,  250  ;  statue  of,  55 

—  Maximilian,  51,  184 
Sidney,  Sir  Philip,  quoted,  7 
Silvestri,  Marc  Antonio,  149 
Sismondi,  quoted,  211 
Sixtus  V,  Pope,  70 
Soderino,  Cardinal,  92 
Sodoma,  80 

Solari,  Cristoforo,  55 
Soranzo,  Antonio,  240-241 

—  Vittore,  148,  153,  155 
Spagna,  Lo,  83 
Spinello,  artist,  254 
Stampa,  Ermes,  148 
Stirling,  quoted,  281 

Strada,  Zanobia  da,  208-210,  219-220. 

225 
Strozzi,  family,  22 

—  Ercole,  136 

—  Filippo,  22 

—  Marietta,  12 
Suffolk,  Lord,  167 
Swinburne,  A.,  quoted,  273 
Symonds,  j.  A.,  quoted,  15  n. 


TABBARINI,  Marco,  251 
Tasso,  Bernardo,  150 

—  poet,  41,  45 
Tatti,  Jacopo,  112 
Tebaldeo,  poet,  91,  150,  152 
Temple,  Sir  William,  quoted,  24-25 
Tersago,  Luigi  da,  175-176 
Tiepolo,  painter,  133 

Titian,  110-113 
Tito,  Santi  di,  63 
Tornabuoni,  family,  20-21 

—  Lucrezia,  20 
Tribolo,  architect,  22,  26 

Trissino,  Giangiorgio,  53,  56,  98,  124, 

149  ;  quoted,  60-61 
Trotti,  Jacopo,  177,  181 
Turini,  Baldassare,  79 


UBERTINI,  Bishop,  259 

Udine,  Giovanni  da,  87-88,  90,  92,  95, 

101,  231 
Urbino,   Francesco   Maria,   Duke  of, 

97,  no,  154 

—  Guidobaldo,  Duke  of,  239 

—  Leonora,   Duchess  of,  52-53,   82, 
97,  no,  145,  154 


VAGNINO,  Girolamo,  97 
Valentino,  Duke,  241-247 
Varotari,/az«/(?r,  133 
Van  der  Weyden,  Rogier,  34 


297 


ITALIAN  GARDENS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 


Vasari,  Giorgio,  quoted,  13,  17,  21-22, 
69-70,  79,  85,  90-92,  in,  204,  228- 
231,  254,  271 

Veneziano,  Domenico,  130 

Verini,  Michele,  18 

Veronese,  Paolo,  126 

Verrocchio,  Andrea,  17,  26 

Villani,  Matteo,  215,  218 

Vinci,  Leonardo  da,  48,  51,  62,  66, 
166,  171,  177-178,  187-190,  197;  his 
Mono,  Lisa,  165  ;  quoted,  275 

Visconti,  Dukes  of,  50 


Visconti,  Bernabo,  218 
—  Gaspare,  31 
Visconti- Arconati,  Countess,  169 


WALLACE,  Sir  Richard,  176 
Watts,  G.  F.,  273,  290-291 
Widener  Gallery,  169 
Wyndham,  Percy,  274 


132 


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